


Unconditionally - Book 4: Promise

by worldinviolet



Series: Unconditionally [4]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentor/Protégé, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-07 06:56:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 64,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13429287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worldinviolet/pseuds/worldinviolet
Summary: After a near impossible-to-win battle... Rick, Eleanor and their group finally reclaimed the prison as their definite home; they were able to rescue Andrea and the Woodbury survivors who managed to escape the crazy fury of the governor... who is still on the loose. Ten months have passed since then, but problems will arise in their new build paradise...





	1. Ten months after...

 

The subtle and warm rays of light shone through the green grass, through metal bars, and along gray sturdy walls. The small flowers that grew in plastic pots alongside the entrance of Block C welcomed the new day with eagerness, their petals started to open, reviving to the warm and welcome breeze of middle spring; the bees began their busy work, flying around the early flowers, recollecting the pollen that would gladfully turn into the sweet honey that dripped out their wooden home, dutifully provided by their human keepers.

 

An annoyed groan echoed across the concrete walls, and a hand crept out of a lump of fluffy blankets to reach a wristwatch posed on a little table beside it. The watch disappeared inside them, and another annoyed groan could be heard… then a brown mess of hair emerged and a drowsy frown better studied the small machine against the light. As the dark brown eyes adjusted to the bright light of the morning, the young woman attached the band around her wrist; rubbing her eyes she rolled around the bed, pushing the mass of blankets away, revealing a cotton tank top and shorts as pajamas…. How she managed to sleep under such warm covers in middle spring, it was beyond her at the moment. She stood and stretched, she reached the half-opened curtain that hanged on the door and secluded her privacy before she clumsily searched for her scattered clothes.

Eleanor Sherry, currently 24 years old, walked outside of Block C to the fresh and humid breeze of the morning. She took in a big breath and enjoyed the peaceful quiet of the early morning.  Judith was still sleeping, she was almost a year old now… and it was quite a blessing, the little angel had been Ellie’s alarm clock the first months… she was so conditioned to her cries that once she walked barefooted in her cotton pajamas, she failed to catch a cold then…. She was happy that finally subsided. Eleanor walked around the courtyard and noticed another solitary soul already up and working. She gave a gentle smile as the former sheriff fought his way through his small garden…. With a sigh, she walked inside Block D.

 

“We started thinking you would never arrive” a grave voice teased and Eleanor steak her tongue out, Tyresse snorted “Good morning Eleanor”

“Hey there Ty…” she said looking around “Do you know if Joe’s around?”

“He’s already there inspecting the damage, he actually asked me to fetch this and give it to you” he said, stretching out a small notebook with a pencil “Daryl is making a run today, they found another jackpot, a big one” Eleanor noded serious, and took the papers and pencil with a thank you; It didn’t take long until Sasha arrived and greeted them.

“You join us at the fences today?” she asked and Elle lifted her shoulders

“Depends on the pipes” she answered “I have my hopes up that everyone will be able to take a shower today”

“Yeah!” Sasha explained while she walked away, extending her fist in the air, Eleanor laughed and walked pat the Block D and to a narrow yet illuminated hallway…. On her way to the showers.

 

 

It has been one interesting season... Eleanor thought; between the conditioning of the cells in each cell block, the slow but steady reconditioning of the infirmary, the expansion of the dinner room area... and now, the reinstallment of potable water on the showers of block D; her chest inflated with pride at how all together looked... she concluded she's never been so comfortable before. 

"Ah... finally! ; rise up and shine sugar!"

"Geez Joe... it's barely 7"

"That ain't gonna cut it sweet cherry pie, I'm almost finished! We thought you said you'd arrive earlier today!"

"That's right.... you thought, I said nothing, and I'm not a cherry" She pouted and a barked laugh echoed through the walls; the southerner returned to his work while Oscar walked to her instead. 

"You should know better and stop volunteering for late night shifts, It's not like we desperately need them"

"You know I just lo-ohoh-ve you both so much!" she added sarcastically.

"Too bad I'm taken right Oscar!" she heard the hunched man as he tapped the ground searching for a spanner, Eleanor slightly pushed it to him with her boot until he reached it  "Ah... not like the one asking for ya every morning, now that boy is tenacious" Elenor frowned confused and looked at Oscar

"Dr. S came asking for you, he wanted to know if you had time today to visit the infirmary" he explained. Eleanor raised her eyebrows, but as her brain connected the dots, she turned to Joe annoyed. 

"Dr. Caleb and I are nothing... stop saying otherwise" she warned. The older man got up and took the paper from her hands, and started to write down a list of different pipe forms and connectors. 

"Sadly for him... he comin' kneeling at your feet like a sinner to a church" he smirked, and Eleanor snatched the paper from his hands with a scowl and looked at it, the man smirked and snorted as he waited for her to make a sum of the small list

"We are out of insulating tape already?" she asked concerned

"Cross valves too... it won't hurt to get a couple, plastic ones gonna be popping in no time," he said with a defeated grimace.

"Thank you Joe, I'll give this to Daryl... good thing this hell is over today" she smiled and he patted her shoulder. She exited Block D with the whole intention of finding Daryl and giving the list before she even tried to venture around the infirmary. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was the characteristic disturbance in his eyes what woke him up. One eye opened but closed immediately due to the offending light, he gave another turn... trying to hug an inexistent pillow. He frowned and raised his half-asleep head and looked around; finally, he found it lying on the floor... still, not out of his reach. He stretched and snatched it with an annoyed grunt, hugging it... he intended to turn around and keep on sleeping. It was only a couple of minutes before he gave a defeated sigh and turned one more time... facing the sailing of his mattress. With a swift movement of his arm, he pulled away the flannel sheet off of him, revealing a large t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants... he reluctantly gazed down and turned his gaze up again with a relieved sigh.... it was going to be a peaceful morning for him. Another couple of minutes of placid contemplation until he decided to sit with a rapid jump, his feet touched the chilly floor and a shiver crossed his body... completely awake, he turned to the chair beside his bed, where his clothes were neatly folded. 

Carl Grimes, 14 of age, wandered the halls of Block C with two current purposes; first, his father's cell, when he arrived he found it empty, so the man was no longer in his bed and that meant his father went ahead without him... the teen grimaced at it. Secondly, he walked to the adjacent cell where Judith was still sleeping, it sure was a blessing.... the first three months were literal torture, her cries woke everyone around at barely 4 am; he could even remember that Elle almost fell ill one week, no one in their right mind walks in cotton pants and barefooted in the middle of winter, and then again..... it was Eleanor we were talking about. He gave a little glance at the cell with a rose-patterned curtain; it was fully open, she was already up and playing with her pipes in the shower section... Carl raised an eyebrow and turned around to the door, he would be impressed if she, Oscar and Mr. Corsen managed to have that by lunch.

 

Once he reached the courtyard, he noticed that some other early birds were already moving around. He spotted his father next to the hatchery and walked down to meet him.

“You didn’t wake me up”

“’Cause  I knew you were up all night, reading comics with a flashlight,” his father said and both smiled. “Though you disappeared on me for a while… Where did you go?”

“I took a walk, some fresh air you know” he shrugged and Rick lifted an eyebrow not convinced, then he snorted and tapped his son shoulder in affection. The teenager focused his attention on the female pig that rested on a corner of the fenced space “What’s up with Violet?”

“Carl… I told you not to name them, they are not piglets anymore” His father retorted “They’re food, don’t get attached” he explained with a mix of concern and bossiness

“I just thought…. you know, until” but instead of trying to explain himself any further, he looked down defeated “Okay” he obeyed and just after that weird exchange, an awkward silence made himself evident, his father looked away.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her, could be sick… could be nothing” he said and clicked his tongue, but the pig didn’t even move. “Feel better… Violet” his father teased and smiled, Carl couldn't help but do the same… “Come on, let’s get to it” he said and they walked down the field. Gradually more at ease, Carl strived for conversation again.

“Maybe we could tell Hershel or Eleanor about it in the counsel reunion tomorrow” he suggested and looked at his father. The uneased frown was there as he considered his words

“Yeah… we could do that” he commented, Carl fought the urge to frown at him. He observed his father often enough to know when he was lying, or at least escaping from an argument. He didn’t insist.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

Eleanor gave a radiant smile around her as she walked around the dining area. Deliciously.... it became an outdoor space, she greeted the merry faces that turned her way and noticed again that there were people she didn't have a name for.... damn her whimsical memory.

“There’s a good example for you” Eleanor managed to catch as she approximated the small furnace, Daryl and Carol were there talking.

“Hell no, I don’t want to become a damn celebrity”

“It’s great to see you too Dar’l” she leaned on the side of the furnace and looked down “Looks amazing…. Hmmm, smells amazing, must certainly taste heavenly… can I… just…” she said graving a fork and a plate and serving four pieces of venison, then graving a well-secluded piece of bread out of nowhere.

“You ain’t gonna hibernate by any chance do ya’?” He said with a frown and Carol couldn’t help but laugh.

“Actually Mr. Dixon this is for cowboy and cowboy-junior; I’m positive they haven’t got any breakfast yet,” She said taking a bite at her own piece “Hmm, Carol this is perfect; now tell me how I’m an exemplary celebrity exactly” Carol snickered

“I was trying to convince Daryl to not fight against the love people give him… and well deserved” she commented and he huffed to the side, Eleanor snickered “Just as an example... the other day, Patrick thanked him for the deer he brought back.... quite serious too" she said mimicking the face of Patrick and Eleanor laughed; the offended man was doing his best at ignoring the two women "But enough of that, I’ve got to show you both something,” she said suddenly serious, and turned and asked someone Eleanor was still unfamiliar with to take over. This one smiled at them including Daryl who walked away, Eleanor snickered catching up to him and Carol.

 

They walked until they could see one of the corners of the outer fences; the three laid-back faces turned cold serious while they gazed into the distance.

“There’s too many…” Eleanor commented worried

“Yeah… we had a pretty big buildup overnight. Dozens more towards tower three; it’s getting as bad as last month” Eleanor frowned concerned.

“The wind flutes are not distracting them anymore?” and Carol shook her head unsure

“I’m not sure what exactly is happening, they seem to be gathering at specific points but I can’t make out why” she sighed “It’s manageable, but unless we get ahead of it, not for long; I don’t think the usual group will be able to make it for the run today…. Sorry Pookie” Carol pouted, batter her lashes and walked away. Daryl snorted with a little smirk and turned to look again at the fences. Eleanor sighed discouraged.

“Maybe I could make a couple of runs again… for old times sake” Eleanor suggested with a teasing tone; Daryl turned to her with an unconvinced frown.

“And who you suppose is going to get in charge for all you do? Andrea? She’s full with the accommodation of the last take in” he referred to the unfamiliar faces Eleanor saw that morning at the dining table, half a month ago… he found at least 10 more refugees. “Not counting the canned food inventory and identity registration-“

“Okay, I got it” she stopped him a little annoyed, but she sighed “I’m sorry… I know it’s just, I don’t feel comfortable changing the run group in mid-season, or shortening it for that matter”

“It’s cool…. It’s not like I’ll run to a corner to panic, I’ll ask Rick instead” Daryl said cleaning the last of his dish, Eleanor took that opportunity to show the folded piece of paper to him “What’s that…” he opened it and took a moment to read then snorted again “seriously woman…. For all this I should have ya’ go get it yourself” he said waving it on her face and Eleanor smiled for good.

 

It was Daryl who turned around first to prepare the vehicles; then, he accented with a grunt.

“Dr. S”

“Good morning Daryl” her feet literally ran cold and stuck to the ground, just when she was turning around to go leave the food to Rick and Carl. And she stayed frozen like a statue, side looking at Dr. Caleb Subramanian, dish in hand, completely blank expression. The man gave her a patient smile. “Hello Eleanor”

“Caleb… hey” she said, as if the greeting was the queue to move again, “Oh, Oscar gave me your message, I’ll pass by the infirmary in no time” she offered with a little smile

“I wish it would be more than just a little ‘passing by’, but it’s hard to get a hold on you these days,” he said walking closer, Eleanor's immediate instinct was to step back, but afraid to appear rude she nailed herself to the ground.

“Oh… w-well, there’s a lot to do these days” she commented, and before the awkwardness could spread any further she added “You wanted to talk about medical supplies? Daryl is passing by a big department store today, maybe we could tell him what you need now-“

“The medical supply is fine,” he said with a sigh giving her a serious look, Eleanor shallowed some saliva.

“Well let me just… just, take these down to Rick” she said stepping sideways and rounding on him to leave the fenced corner, making a little more steps between them “And we are good to go!” she chirpily said with a little jump, Caleb snorted and she let go her air more relaxed; then a whistle echoed and she turned to the fence. “Great! She’s back” she said jogging to the entrance.

 

 

“We’re glad to see you,” said Rick once they closed the doors, Michonne gave the horse to Carl who petted it.

“I’m glad to see you too,” she said with a smile that turned to a laugh when Eleanor appeared, dramatically avoiding the horse that tried to get close to her.

“Good morning Rick, Carl, 'Chonne,” she said extending the plate to Carl first “that’s for you… your hands are clean right?”

“Finally! I was starving,” he said with a smile and took the piece of venison, Eleanor grinned.

“Your hands are not clean… go wash your hands” she said to Rick and this one snorted, she beamed to Michonne “this one’s for you! Got something interesting today?”

“As a matter of fact…” she said reaching for the backpack that was on the saddle of the horse. “I hit the jackpot” she smirked and a handful of comics appeared on her hands.

“No!! Awesome!” Carl’s eyes shone with interest and a big bright smile crossed his face while looking at the little books with avid curiosity “Thank you!”; without even noticing, Eleanor gave a contented and tender smile.

“I get to read them when you’re done,” She noticed Michonne searching something and her focus changed to her, she pulled what looked like a medium-sized book, it was wrapped in craft paper. Eleanor gasped excited, in response, Michonne frowned bothered “Can you believe me if I told you this was harder to get than the comics” the black woman smiled when Eleanor beamed at her like another teenager.

“Oh, I owe you a big one! A giant one! Thank you!” she said pinching one side and ripping a little fraction of the paper; then, she looked through the little hole, satisfied she closed it again.

“Not like we are curious to know what it’s about or anything” Carl complained; Michonne laughed and Rick smirked. Eleanor pouted and while she and Carl started a bickering back and forward, Michonne got out an electric razor and turned her attention to the former officer “And I also found this… your face is losing the war” she joked.

“You gonna stay a little while?” asked Rick, while giving the electric razor to Eleanor, Michonne considered the question while giving a bite to her breakfast.

“Yes a little while,” she said after some contemplation. At that moment Daryl came out on his bike, two more pick-ups behind him.  

“Look who’s back!” he greeted, but his smug smirk was only greeted by a defeated grimace from the black woman..... she didn't find the governor, Eleanor knew it was a long shot and was not the only one, Daryl nodded in understanding “Glad to see you in one piece” 

“I’m thinking of looking near Macon” she suggested suddenly and gained a strained sigh from both Rick and Eleanor. “It’s worth the shot,” she said stubbornly.

“70 miles of walkers… you might run into a few unneighborly types… is it?” Daryl said.

“It’s been 10 months… if you are going as far as Macon then he could be anywhere by now” Eleanor said, Michonne glared and the young woman shook her head stubbornly “If you are determined to go that far… You need at least someone to cover your back, we could arrange something tomorrow….” Eventually, Michonne relaxed again, and Eleanor smiled “Plus, I need all the hands I can get to clean those fences, could be a great work out”

“Now that you started that conversation” Daryl shot back “We are going to that new place, the one I was talking about… we could use an extra gun”

“Yeah…. I got to go out and check the snares… I don’t want to lose whatever we catch to the walkers” Rick commented, the awkward silence made itself evident and Eleanor and Daryl exchanged glances. Other light blue eyes looked at the exchange, suddenly more interested in it that in his brand new comics.

“I’ll go”

“You just got here” Eleanor heard behind her, it was Carl and she grimaced

“And I’ll be back” Michonne commented with a smile and walked to one of the cars, the young woman tailed behind her.

 

 

“Hey.... " Michonne stopped to look at her "Please be careful… here, this is for the road” She said, giving Michonne another bite of venison, this time with the piece of bread. Michonne took it, her stare softened and she smiled.

“Never say no to food”

“Never say no to food” Eleanor repeated in a soft whisper. The cars drove away to the exit and got lost on the road. Eleanor sighed and turned to the former sheriff, who was already walking away to check on those snares; she wanted to walk to him and talk about it, but noticed that Hershel already took the matter of hands.... she didn't notice he was there before. All that made her gave out an even more worried sigh; she looked up the hill and mentally cursed as if she wasn't already loaded with enough difficult situations, Caleb was already waiting for her on the entrance of the inner fence. 

"You are going with dad to check on the snares?" Eleanor turned away to look at Carl.

"I wish I could Carl, but I'm on my own load of stress right now.... if I wasn't so busy I would have gone to the run instead" she commented turning her gaze at the gates, where the walkers on the fences and she glared worried. 

"You also need help with that... why not convince dad about it; we could help" he suggested and Eleanor smiled, her gaze softened while she turned to him. But before she could say anything, Rick called for his son and they got separated. Eleanor sighed and pouted, looking at the man that now gave her a stern look. The silent conversation ended with her walking up the hill again. 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Going to check on the snares?” Carl said finally catching up to his father.

“I am… you’re not” he snapped, but waved his hand latter, to lighten up his tone “Do your chores, read comics… maybe some books too, hang out with Patrick… You could go to story time”

“Dad… that’s for kids” Carl frowned confused, where was all this coming from! Still, his father nodded and affirmed his position. Carl restrained a frustrated sigh and nodded.

He did it again, Carl thought frustrated… and he proceeded to silently brush the brown mare.

Ten months after his father let the people of Woodbury in.... more people came. Autumn, winter… spring was almost over and summer would pass too, then it would be winter again. It had become a routine where life didn’t seem to change but was still evolving. They had food to eat every day, the cells became real bedrooms,  one for each preference. The showers, bathrooms, the dining area. Even the infirmary that now almost looked like a mini hospital… the energy generators that provided them with something that came close to the life they had before. Carl was not complaining, this is what he and his mother wanted… and he was proud and happy to see that it was going on the right track; even, sometimes he would rather have his father still hanging around the periphery and letting the council handle things; as much as Eleanor nagged she was stressed, tired, loaded to the chin with work, she moved around like a hummingbird from morning to night.

He glanced up to the hill where the young woman had long left with Dr. Caleb Subramanian. Carl was always in the details…. And he noticed how the doctor accompanied Eleanor to the entrance of the field, how he waited for her until she had no other reason to tag around, how he received her with a smile that she answered with reluctance…. How he tried to walk closer to her while Eleanor rounded on him and set a healthy two steps from each other.

 

He sighed, that dork Eleanor would die before straightforward turn down a person; or maybe there was a part of her that stood against her decisions, as she often said it happened… and wanted to accept the man’s advances. He sighed, letting the brush on a side and walking away; it was not like him to overthink anything… it was the lack of things to do that got him like this, if he could only grab his blade and go kill some walkers in the fence, he wouldn’t be thinking about Eleanor, or Dr. S or anything about it at all.

He walked down the hill and looked over at the outer fences, where the creatures growled and clawed against it… a little more and they would tear it down… there was no doubt about that; his father would keep himself in denial and constantly make sure he was acting like a kid his age….  There was also a limit to what the council could set on Eleanor’s shoulders…. Her smile would falter and her welcoming façade would fall apart… he would secretly be content to see her snap and scare away that naïve doctor, who must know nothing about Eleanor past her formal kindness; and yet…. And yet.  He looked up the hill again, what was he expecting? He wondered… what was he searching for, why after so many months of peace and home.... he was still restless.

 

 

“He asked me to only drink hot boiled water, take this pills… keep this thing around my neck” Patrick sighed and scratched at his neck, under the surface of a short scarf. Carl gave him an apologetic look, it must be hard to walk around like that in the sun.  “How do you do it! You never fall ill… not even in winter” Carl didn’t answer, only gave his friend a smirk. This one grimaced not convinced.

“We could enter if you like” Carl suggested, as far as he was concerned, sick people should be in bed getting rest. It was indeed a surprise Patrick got the flu this season, but it was easier to contain it now… they had the medicines, the precautions too.

“Nah… Dr. S said I should be in bed… and I rather stick around for a little longer; I don’t like being in bed that long” he justified but Carl was not convinced, before he could try to convince his friend again, the voices of the other kids distracted him. He took a deep breath, it was not often he got a cue to have a long conversation with the ‘kids his age’… even if he wanted to. He smiled expecting to greet them, but the moment he realized what the children were doing... it disappeared.  The laughs and waves and names he didn’t recognize…. The close they were to the fence.

“You are naming them?” he asked in a harsh tone. The four children turned around, they were all younger than him, but not by much…. he could recognize the Samuel sisters, Lizzie and Mika.

“Well….one has a name tag, we thought all of them should,” Said Mika, the youngest.

“That was when they were alive…. They’re dead now-“

“no, they’re not” Carl frowned, it was Lizzie who answered…. He couldn’t have heard right. “they’re just…. Different”

“What the hell are you talking about!” He raised his voice, not believing how Lizzie only two years younger than him, could get to such a conclusion, but then he tried to calm down “.. Okay listen; They don’t talk…. They don’t think…. They eat people, they kill people”

“People kill people too” she countered back “and they have names…”

“have you seen what happens?.... have you seen someone die like that?” Carl asked more exasperated. Liz frowned with a determination and bravery that due to the situation Carl found absolutely unnerving.

“Yeah…. I have” she said as if that gave her all the power and right to say whatever just came out of her mouth. Carl had enough of trying to reason with her.

“They are not people, and they are not pets…. Don’t name them” he ordered, he and the girl shared an icy glare…. But it was her that broke it in the end. they walked away and only her little sister remained behind, she tried to give the boys a kind smile but avoided eye contact with Carl nonetheless.

“You coming to story time tonight?” she asked Patrick, who after some hesitation nodded; she smiled again and left.

 

The silence trained on until it became awkward, the exchange between his friend and the young girl almost made him forget the little discussion with Lizzie, he couldn’t help but smirk when Patrick turned to look at him, guilt and embarrassment written all over his face. That only made Carl’s smirk grow bigger, he snorted.

“I go sometimes… okay; I’m immature, I really like it… But you wouldn’t dig it… it’s for kids”

“I just think you should be resting instead,” Carl said, but a giggle escaped him and Patrick nodded defeated. “Your secret is safe with me” he teased and Patrick eased up.

“See you tomorrow young sir!”

“Yeah..” Carl whispered, looking at his friend walk away, his smile finally disappearing, leaving again the stern frown he just couldn’t get rid of. He sighed defeated… he didn’t really want to go around acting like an adult all the time, why was it so hard to have fun with other kids?.... why couldn’t they get him?.... he decided to walk inside, still unsure if to join the rest at story time or not, afraid that in the end he couldn’t enjoy it and that would isolate him even more, he didn’t want to be isolated; where was he supposed to fit if not here and now.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Eleanor’s sigh echoed through the now empty halls of the shower section. She walked past her cell, flannel pants, and a light blue pull. Her hair hanging on her back, dripping water on the way she left behind her. She looked around the slightly illuminated rooms that indicated people were still up but minding their own problems; she sighed in both tiredness and relief at the thought. She walked past Rick cell and noticed that Judith wasn’t in her crib, and assumed Rick took her for a walk… he did that when he felt down; he was not the only one though, Eleanor needed to have the little cute ball around her arms now too, she silently complained and decided to take her night watch empty-handed, low spirited.

That day started off great, it was evolving in a so-so day…. Until it became a complete mess. She looked down at her wrist and glared in self beration, she should have gone with them…. The run. It has been a month since the last time they lost people on a run, and it happened again. She wondered if that was ever going to change; she knew there were not enough people, but she also thought that given the case where there were more inexperienced people around them… things would have gone even worse. Daryl was already blaming himself enough for it, even if not many people noticed, the ones that knew him were sure he took it personal… every time.

She crouched on the little wooden box she called her sentinel post and wrapped her arms around her legs, she used her knees as a support for her head while she looked at the field filled with the hatchery, the always growing crop Rick, Carl and Hershel worked so hard all these months. She sniffed and a glare appeared on her dark brown eyes; it was official…. She was sulking about it, she hated herself for it. But if confessions had to be made, if she had to be completely honest with herself that was just half of it. Her eyes traveled down her wrist and her glare only hardened. The object of her hatred, a beaded bracelet, hang innocently in front of her. The sudden urge to grab it and tear it out of her limb was taking over her, and she hid the object out of her sight; once done, she looked down sad again an sniffed a second time…. She would really regret it if she did such a thing.

She should have gone with Daryl to the run… nothing was more important than that, nothing. especially not what Caleb needed her for; she almost felt ashamed of it. She should have known, where was the backbone she was always proud to show around?

 

_It’s been one month, and I promised I would wait for your answer, but I fell that you are only trying to avoid the situation altogether. I need to know how you feel about me, if I have a chance with you… I’m serious about you._

 

But she was in any place for such a thing right now… not when everyone worked so hard for building this place into a real sanctuary; not when there were still people that already had someone to love and risked their lives going out and making runs and she just…

She sighed again; that bracelet, Caleb gave it to her that afternoon. He put on her wrist and she just stared at it in complete shock… she knew herself alright, that was pure utter shock, not bafflement, not shyness, no nervousness...... she felt out of place. Why did she keep her mouth shut, why couldn’t she still say no?... she sure wanted no one right now, was it so hard to understand? For him, for everyone else?  What if she wanted to work her head out right now?.... she should have beside her someone willing to work their head out with her, to support her, wake her every morning and encourage her to keep on going when she was tired or even more…. Someone capable to convince her to take a rest when she was almost on her way to pass out. She’d rather be alone than 'try it out'…. She wanted someone, somewhere to feel like she belonged... like she fit; and that was not Caleb.

 

~***~ 

 

“You’ll catch a cold like that”

Eleanor looked up and light blue eyes meet her. She unconsciously smiled, but turned around with a smug attitude.

“If I didn’t catch a cold walking barefooted in winter, I would hardly catch a cold after a shower in late spring” Carl kneeled behind her, he grabbed the towel that hanged around her shoulders and began drying the long wet hair.

“If that’s true, and you are not sick… then you are upset, you always sniff when you are upset” Carl said and he felt the tug of Eleanor’s hair, she hid her face between her legs, and he couldn’t help but feel concerned. He sighed, and continued massaging the dark brown waves “you know it’s not your fault…. Right?”

“I know” she whispered, and she sighed too. Carl frowned, as far as he was concerned,  Daryl was already enough of a self-berating leader they needed right now. These things happened, it only took longer than expected.

 

“You are thinking that I’m overreacting aren’t you?” she said suddenly and Carl snorted

“You are not overreacting, but this had to happen… the team broke, there were fewer people and even a couple of them didn’t know how to properly take care of themselves…. Daryl can’t be behind them as if they were children, neither can you”

Eleanor wide-eyed to the front, even if it has been a long time and she knew Carl didn’t beat around the bushes… it still took her off guard. Nevertheless, she smiled warmly…. Another thing the child stopped doing was rephrasing himself to her, afraid he would have been too harsh… she knew he wasn’t, and he knew she knew.

“Thank you” she whispered, and the hands on her hair stopped, she had a sudden and strong urge to turn around and see his expression, instead…. She took a deep breath.  

 

“You want to play Uno again today?”

“If your pride can take it” he teased and snorted when he could see her eyebrows forming a frown.

“Excuse me! What’s that supposed to mean?” she countered back, feigning to be offended.

“Exactly what it means” he teased in a whisper and tugged at her hair; she heaped in more shock than pain and Carl giggled.

“You little devil! How dare you!…. I’m a fair player, and for your information I let you win yesterday!” Carl snorted not impressed

“Sure, you let me win… playing for over an hour, biting your nails and trying to snatch cards out of the deck were all just mere build up” he replied sarcastically “The public must be kept in suspense, we’ll lose ratings otherwise, look! they know it’s bullshit look! They are leaving!” he signaled over the fences distressed, as some walkers moved around, not interested in the fences. He smiled the moment he knew he pushed the button, Eleanor started a fit of laughs and giggles… bless her dark and twisted humor, one that Carl learned himself to appreciate.

“I can’t… I… I can’t” she panted and squirmed.

“Stop moving, you want this done or not” he ordered, and Eleanor stood straight, she crossed her legs and used her hands as support.

Then, he looked at it; he stopped what he was doing. A beaded bracelet hanged from her right wrist, a bracelet he was never seen on her before… a little thing that she wouldn’t choose for her own just like that. Carl sighed, it almost came as a growl of annoyment, not a surprise… his mind connected the dots faster than Eleanor realized that he saw it and still, she did. The light and happy mood evaporated as mist; she averted her hand to the front again, that act alone threatened to make him madder…. But then Eleanor regained her position, so he concluded it was a reflection movement.  Carl understood now…. he completely understood what happened; why she felt guilty, why she was sulking when he found her, why she sniffed distressed.

 

“You are an idiot,” he said, and Eleanor hugged her legs again “That’s from Dr. Subramanian…”

“Have I told you before how smart you are?” She was trying to evade him… not today.

“He gave that to you this afternoon, he was waiting for you… I saw it” he said more annoyed “If you don’t want to accept it… why won't you say so?”

An awkward silence trained, it felt too long for him. Suddenly, he felt he made a mistake, maybe Eleanor wanted this, maybe it was the fact that she did that made her feel guilty. However, the whine that broke the atmosphere almost made him jump; it was Eleanor complaining.

“I know…. I’m a big coward” she sighed and lifted her hand to look at it. “It’s just…. It’s not like I hate him or anything, he’s kind… he doesn’t deserve me being rude and yet...” she went silent again “I didn’t accept it I just…. couldn’t refuse it”

“That exactly the same thing” Carl answered back not even impressed, he had no experience whatsoever on this kind of stuff, but there was no need to… it was a logical decision, a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. “What are you going to do?”

 

Eleanor kept her gaze down the little bracelet. Here’s what she could do for the moment… Carl thought. She could start by getting that thing out of her wrist, then throw it away, or even better, give it to him… he was sure he had a pair of scissors somewhere… once he got rid of it things would be much easier to do…

“I don't like him that way.... that much is clear...." she sighed "I suppose I already made my desicition…. I just needed this night to come up with the execution” she mentioned, and she let her hand down again. Carl noticed that all that time, he stopped drying her hair… but he also noticed that almost all the excess of water was gone, and the heavy waves were already forming under his palms. He was stricken with a sudden feeling of nostalgia, and he remembered simpler times when he was 12, when Sophia was alive…. When both played around making braids on the hair of a sleeping Eleanor... a smiling and laidback Eleanor that constantly hanged around them... a gentle and witty Eleanor they had for themselves.

 

Why did it bother him so much... he wasn't sure. Maybe it was because he didn't know Dr. S at all.. he was a stranger to him. If he had to stretch his thoughts further.... he would add he wasn't a good match for Eleanor. He refrained a sigh... he remembered Beth's words and assumed he was still too young to get it. It was getting dark, and if they really wanted to play some card game or read comics, they should have already started… they were not going to get anything done that night.

“I just remembered something,” The young woman said, hanging the towel to dry, she sat down facing him. He lifted an eyebrow, and Eleanor turned to her right, from under the covers she pulled out the book Michonne gave her that morning, it was still in its paper wrapping. 

"I thought you didn't want us to see it" he commented, and the young woman handed him the unwrapped book.

"I didn't want to show your father yet... that's different" she corrected, he lifted his eyebrows not particularly surprised. He ripped the paper into pieces and the hard cover of it could be seen. He expected nothing about it, knowing Eleanor as he did it could be anything: a novel, a manual, a medicine book or a joke book; and yet.... when he looked at the title, when he opened it and turned around the pages, the intention made itself evident. He knew why she didn't want to tell his father or the council yet. 

 

Eleanor smiled, gazing at Carl taking the book as seriously as she did. He lifted his gaze for a moment, to notice the expectant stare of her, and he looked at the book again. 

"This is a really long time project, I haven't got a clear image about it... so I was thinking of keeping it secret until I could come up with something possible" she explained 

"Solar energy," he said closing the book "Hot water too?" he sounded invested and Eleanor smiled

"Hot water" she repeated "music, movies, video games.... calefaction, refrigeration; wouldn't it be great"

"It would be awesome," he said smiling, but then he frowned and looked at her "If you wanted to keep it secret, why are you showing it to me?"

 

"Because you are my best friend, I thought it was obvious," she said, Carl wide-eyed... but snorted. It was a stupid question, still... he wanted to hear it; he felt it... a rush around his chest, like running cold water under the burnt skin... refreshing, sizzling... electrifying. 

"Have you shown it to anyone else?" he asked as a past tense, but the answer... he already knew; it was the implied question behind it, the one he didn't want to say out loud that interested him. Eleanor looked at him for a moment and then smirked.

"It's a secret operation... yes? You are the only one who's going to know, apart from Michonne of course... she got me the book"

"Now I get why she said this was harder to get than my comic books," he said lifting the book. "I'll be there when you try to convince Daryl to bring the solar panels all the way here, these look heavy" he joked and Eleanor giggled. 

"They are heavy... and big, and bothersome. But they are not expensive anymore" She said with a smug attitude that made Carl laugh. "Well it's going to be along the way until then... there are other things that will get me occupied for now... like tomorrow she said hugging her legs again, but her dark brown eyes were not expressing confusion... guilt or discomfort. They looked playful and full of mischief, he missed that stare... wished he could see it more often. 

"What is tomorrow?" he asked and even if he could not see half of her mouth, he knew that she was smiling.

"Tomorrow..." she considered "Tomorrow I'm doing two things... assessing our audience" she joked "And learning to take care of the crop... I want to, I'm determined to spend time with you and your dad"

 

There was something special that Eleanor always loved to see in Carl's eyes. It was maybe his young age, or the fact that he was open around her... somehow she knew when those light blue eyes lightened up; she felt it, like spotting a shooting star in a dark sky. He huffed, and slowly his smile followed his eyes. Eleanor smiled in response, and suddenly felt like the day was finally over... that she could rest. 

"Ah... that's the smile I wanted to see" she half frowned in distress, thinking it has been a while since she has seen it too. 

"You're serious?" 

"You'll have to wake me tomorrow though... I won't make it otherwise" she commented.

"You woke before me today"

"That was because I kept you awake until past midnight yesterday... I couldn't let you win" she said and Carl laughed. 

"But I still won," he said proud of himself, Eleanor barked a laugh.

"Come on!" she said standing up and stretching, and gaining a confused look from the young man "I'll let watch pass for today, Oscar is always telling me it's useless... and I have to wake up early tomorrow"

She stretched her hand, and helped Carl to stand. Together, they walked alongside in comfortable silence. The hallways of Block C were already deserted... most of the lights were out and people slept. The pair separated and walked inside their respective cells. One cocooning herself around her fluffy covers, the other hugging his second pillow; both tired... both contented and at the same time, both reluctant to form questions about why they couldn't feel like they fitted around anywhere else. 

 

~***~

 

Next morning, at 6 am... Rick woke up determined to wake his son early, and found himself with a waiting Carl; fully clothed and already changed... standing guard beside a rose-patterned curtain. He would smirk amusedly at the also ready young woman coming out of her cell. Hair hardly presentable and fluffy eyes. He would remember for days to come the broad and relaxed smile on his son's face... he would remember the playful bickering he and Eleanor had always going, how the young woman managed to ease up any walls his son often hid behind. He would accept gladly to welcome the woman into their ranks of peaceful farming, he would ask her to leave her signature blade aside. And then, she would excuse herself, suggesting them to go on ahead while she checked on Patrick. He would remember the ease he felt when he walked outside of Block C that morning, feeling that something just fell right in its place... that a life like this would be something he would gladly live with. 

He would feel at such peace. He would remember how naïve he was that moment, not noticing the darkening cloud forming in the far sky. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done! Welcome book 4: Promise! A part of my mind is whispering (Now that is escalating quickly)  
> An Eleanor/Carl centered episode!! I really should make more of those. Though hard to write, great to read.  
> Also, I'm introducing a new point of view (~***~) that would be the universal POV for both Eleanor and Carl, combining their thoughts as they evolve; I hope it works, if it gets complicated to understand... tell me ;)
> 
> I hope you like it, kudo it or comment! See you in next chapter :D


	2. The breach

  

 

 

He woke some minutes before six, the time his father’s alarm always sounded beside his nightstand. He changed fast and then, he stood guard beside a rose patterned curtain. As if written by destiny, his father woke rather late that morning… at least half an hour later than he used to. Carl didn’t mind, and as he tapped on the opened metal door... a groan followed soon after and he could hear the shifting of those ridiculously fluffy covers Eleanor used, despite being spring. He giggled and snorted, as the mess of brown hair appeared over the closed curtain, half-lidded eyes turned to him while she hummed and hid again… some curses followed and he assumed she just tripped over her own boots. Then, his father appeared, at first completely surprised, he reluctantly approached his son… a question ready on his mouth. The teenager had no problem answering that, but just as his father reached him, Eleanor came out of her own cell fully clothed.

Carl smirked, he watched Eleanor elaborate and justify her desire to join them in the farming. She awkwardly talked, and suddenly seemed like she still had Patrick’s age… Eleanor’s age had always been a tricky thing for him. She smiled broadly when Rick joked and teased her about it, sternly asking her to leave her handgun and blade behind. The set might be reunited now, Carl thought, thinking about his own weapon that had been guarded out of his reach for half a year now. Finally, when his father turned around to lead the way, Eleanor gazed at him with a mischievous smile, one that the young man couldn’t resist answering back… what would Patrick think now, he mused, as a contented childish smile found its way to the face of serious young Mr. Grimes; and just as he thought about it, Eleanor excused herself, asking for a couple of minutes to check on the sick boy, agreeing to meet Carl and his father at the field when she was done.

 

That’s how he reached the courtyard, a mind relaxed and restless at the same time; he couldn’t wait to be the one to teach Eleanor something new, not giving much thought at the satisfaction he felt thinking she would obey him without question…. That’s how he bid Michonne goodbye, feeling prepared for a new season of a routine he was slowly trying to fit in. That’s how he felt that exact moment…. The moment he heard it happen.

What it was? …. It was a sound that he almost thought he had forgotten. It was the distinctive sound of gunfire, echoing around the whole prison, making it impossible to determine the exact source. A thunder, roaring into the sky, screaming to the world of a dreadful presence…; his mind and almost his entire being was filled with a different kind of alert. the one more related to panic…. Absolute and terrible fear.

“That came from the cell blocks,” he said suddenly, but...was he that sure of it? which Block was it? Block C…. was Judith alright?

“Go to the tower with Maggie and wait for me. Don’t argue” his father warned, already reading his son’s intentions “Stay with her and don’t come close no matter what,” he said alarmed and Carl nodded serious.

 

He stepped back… either way, there was nothing he could do without a weapon and his father’s approval… he only wished it was some kind of accident and it wasn’t a breach or anything. He ran to the opposite side, but before he could reach Maggie on her post, a whistle alerted him.  It was Michonne that had turned around on her horse and was coming back, possibly to help if needed. Not having anyone around, Carl tried to lift the heavy metal door to let the black woman inside, but his weight was not enough to balance the mechanism fast enough. As if things couldn't get any worse, the sound of the guns alerted the walkers, that started gathering closer; a couple of them managed to pass the door before he could close it and Michonne found herself dangerously close to them. She hopped down and pulled out her katana. As she was killing the walkers that she could see in front of her, she didn’t notice the one that lured in the back. Carl called her name to prevent her but she seemed to not notice.

He glared down frustrated and with a swift exhalation, he reached the sentinel post where Maggie was opening the door. It all happened faster than he recollected; a cry of pain could be heard and he grabbed Maggie’s rifle and pointed to the great entrance... firing. The walker stumbled back defeated and this time around Maggie helped him close the door properly. They rushed to Michonne, who was on the floor and seemed to not be able to get up.

“Are you alright? Were you bitten?” Carl asked in concern, after all… he did hear her scream.

“I’m fine,” she said, sucking up her pain “It's a sprain..... What happened inside?” she asked in return. Carl kneeled beside her and helped her to stand up, not really answering her question. They limped past the second door that Maggie held open, once they were inside, she also helped Michonne to reach the prison for medical treatment.

 

By then, part of the adrenaline was starting to wear off, leaving Carl with a distinct mix of guilt and distress. He still knew nothing about the gunfire, his father disappeared and some screams of help could be heard, he could not run since he had Michonne by the arm and at the same time, he could not erase the feeling of his body… the sensation of the metal on his arms; if his father was ever going to appear out of the mess inside, he was going to be truly mad. The only thing that distracted him from his swirling worries was the sight of Carol; she came out with Mika and Lizzie. Carl felt unsettled once he could see that the girls had red puffy eyes, they were crying without consolation.

Then, it dawned on him. While Maggie asked Carol and demanded an explanation, while Lizzie vaguely looked at nowhere in particular and hugged her little sister Mika, that couldn’t stop crying and repeating this daddy was going to die.  His gaze turned around, gazing beyond them, gazing to the far side of the courtyard. He didn’t need to hear the conversation; he didn’t need a confirmation…

The breach had been in Block D.

 

 

He repeated it over and over in his mind… It was the undeniable fact that Eleanor was inside that bloody place, unarmed, that made him let go of Michonne. Without previous warning, the black woman stumbled and tried to remain straight while Maggie supported all her weight. She called for him, Carl could hear it… but he paid no mind; the sound was growing weaker anyway. He didn’t stop running until he reached Block D and then…. He could no longer move. 

A sea of people stood in front of him. He wide-eyed at the sight of some crying, some trying to get back inside, asking the name of people that Carl didn't know but sure meant something for the one that asked. He tried to walk past them in a vague attempt to spot Eleanor, his height played against him once again. He hadn't even past a couple of them when he felt a tug on his arm; someone pulled him back. At first, he didn't try to fight it, expecting to find his mad father or Eleanor at the other side.... instead, he collided with Sasha.

“You shouldn't be here; come on, I’ll get you out” she urged and he fought back in response.

“Where is Eleanor?” it was the first question he asked, the people that were evacuating scattered around the courtyard and Carl noticed Karen by the corner of his eye. He centered his attention back to Sasha, that was unsure how to respond. “I know she was in Block D… Is she alright?” he urged.

 

“Carl” Sasha turned, Rick stood behind her. She let go of Carl and excused herself, more interested in helping the scared people away; the former police officer turned to his son with a tired and recriminating glance, but Carl didn’t pay attention at all…. There were so many things in his eyesight that were more important. His father’s hands were covered in blood, it was a mix of the foul odor of walkers blood and the ruby red of a living person. It was real, there had been a breach, and people got injured. Disregarding his father's annoyment, he reached for a hug; it took some seconds for him to answer back, and Carl felt his hands were still trying to not touch him.

“I told you to not come here,” he said, but no real anger could be heard in his tone, he was worried and exhausted. They parted and his father took some steps behind, Carl frowned and walked to him, but this one lifted his hands. “You… you can’t be near… or near me – “

“what happened? Where’s Eleanor?..... where’s she, dad?” he raised his voice, insistent.

“She’s fine…. She’s not injured” he tried to calm him from a distance. Carl looked around and noticed there were no more people coming out of the building; if anything… the space they were now looked kind of deserted. He tried to walk past his father to see her for himself, maybe she neede some help. But then his father rounded on him. Still trying to keep the two-steps-distance, he tried again… this time with a frown, but it changed nothing.

“Why isn’t she coming out? What happened?” he inquired. Then, they both heard a voice calling for the sheriff, behind them… Michonne and Maggie caught up to Carl. The black woman limped the best she could, Rick frowned in confusion.

“Are you alright?” he asked

“I was returning to help when some walkers attacked me… and they helped” she summarized. Rick gave Carl a little glance before Maggie changed the subject.

“What happened inside? Was it a breach?”

 

His father took a breath, as if he was avoiding to answer the question and he no longer found reason to. He turned to Carl with a mixed face of worry and pain, it made him feel shivers down his spine… something was definitely not right.

“Patrick…. He was sick yesterday, some kind of flu... we think he died last night and attacked the cell block” he said that while looking at Maggie and Michonne, but landed his gaze into Carl at the end, this one looked down and a defeated sigh escaped his mouth “Look I know he was your friend, and I’m sorry… he was a good kid –”.

“I need to see her” Carl whispered looking directly at his father, it hurt… knowing that Patrick was dead, he just talked with him yesterday but as well, there was nothing he could do about it any longer… his mind rested in the implication that Patrick was the breach, and he grew restless again… he simply didn’t believe Eleanor was alright; she went precisely to check on him, she must have found him, she must have killed him, she cared for him too…. she must need help.

“You can’t go inside…” Rick warned “She’s trying to understand what happened”

“Is my dad there too? is he alright?” Maggie asked suddenly. Rick turned to her

“He is fine,” Rick reassured her “Glenn was in there but he’s alright too” Maggie nodded more reassured “You shouldn’t get close to anyone that might have been exposed, at least until Eleanor and Hershel find out what it is…. any of you” he finished.

Carl frowned and pressed his jaw, his lips formed a thin line as a sign of protest, but in the end… he nodded and stepped back walking to Michonne and supporting her arm again. Rick nodded more at ease an walked away. Leaving the trio in the middle of the courtyard.

 

 

“I’m sorry for leaving you like that” Carl murmured to Michonne, as Maggie gave the cue to advance again, this time directly to Block C.

“It’s fine” she ended shortly. Carl sighed, she sounded annoyed… he wondered if it was with him or the whole situation. They entered Block C, and the situation posed itself to be more complicated than they imagined at the beginning. People ran from place to place, some demanded to let them out… some demanded to know the whereabouts of the people in Block D. Carl could identify Andrea from the mass of people, a bunch of yellowed papers on her hands, noting names and hading them to Glenn, this one turned to leave again… until he collided glances with Maggie. This one smiled and wanted to go to him, but Glenn stopped her, preventing her to come closer. The young woman remembered Rick’s words and respected the distance.

“What happened?” asked Glenn referring to Michonne

“She’s injured, I was trying to look for Dr. S” Maggie tempted, it was true that the infirmary was closer from the side of Block C.

“He was in block D when it happened” Glenn provided with a resigned grimace “They are calling for a council reunion right now, but only the exposed people are allowed to assist”

“What?” Maggie said taken back, she had been an active member of the counsel for long enough, and not knowing what happened was getting to her as much as it did to Carl… he understood the sudden annoyment of the young woman.

“Either you or Andrea can assist but not both, as a preventive measure. She want's to have at least an unexposed member of the council that...." he stopped while a woman walked behind him, his voice came barely stronger than a whisper after that "We need someone that has not been exposed in Block C to take over..... it is also better if we keep the two Blocks as isolated as possible, we don’t know how dangerous this is” he glanced around him… it was obvious to Carl now, he didn’t want to be heard.

“You mean what happened to Patrick?… isolate us? Who decided this?”

“Eleanor did…” Carl wide-eyed, was it her idea to keep him from seeing if she was alright? What was really happening? Was this really only a bad case of flu and nothing more…. Maggie looked just as worried and confused as he felt, but didn't dare to ask anymore.

"Let Andrea go, she can tell me later, I'll stay" she conceded finally and Carl could see the relief that appeared on Glenn's face. Carl grew restless, there was no wat denying it... the fear in his eyes, Eleanor's harsh desition surely wasn't for nothing. 

 

Glenn excused himself and walked away, leaving the two women and him in the middle of the hallway. Carl looked around for Andrea, as she also walked away with papers on her hands, she greeted them with a nod and returned to her complaints… people seemed to ask her all the questions she was in no capacity to answer. Carl took a breath once he saw the path ahead was clear.

“We’ll take you to your cell… and I’ll search for some bandages and a first-aid kit on the infirmary” he began but then shook his head “the infirmary must be a mess with the injured people right now… I’ll search around in dad’s cell instead” He offered. Maggie nodded and helped him to settle Michonne on her own cell.

Carl looked around the place and restrained a sigh. From all the cells in the Block, this one would have been the only one that conserved the look it had before Eleanor set the task to make this place more like a home and less like a prison. Simple bordering austere, there were little possessions that sat on a chair and a simple table, with that said…. Only that weird multicolored cat she fancied could count a decoration at all. Carl sat her on her bed, the one that still had the gray sheets of the prison, not bothering to get any new. Maggie then proposed to check on Beth and Judith… the teenager agreed, fearful that the small contact with his father would do something to the baby, something that could easily mean nothing to him.

 

He paced through the empty cells, until he reached the one that belonged to his father. He was about to go in when a thought hit him. He turned to his right… and light blue eyes landed on a rose patterned curtain. His fingers twitched, his ice-blue stare lingered on the red and white; his body started moving towards it. It made sense, Eleanor had always been the one hoarding the little cases, why would he think his father had one of those. Justifying his unpredicted action, he didn’t notice he came to a stop; he faced a wall of printed flowers. The curtain moved in a swift move, and he sighed; the messy room was illuminated before him… somethings just didn’t change. He walked around boots, books, sketchbooks and at least three empty wraps of Kinder Bueno. His stoic face didn’t demonstrate his inner turmoil; he reconsidered his decision... maybe he could find something somewhere else.

He crouched and looked under the bed, first possible spot that could have anything… at the sight of it and despite his worry, he snorted. A rifle, a shotgun, and two boxes were tightly hidden behind a line of boots and sneakers. He reached for the two boxes and sat on the ground. As he would have guessed, the first one contained at least two dozen bullets for each weapon, some more pocket knives, and weapon cleaning tools. If his father were ever to catch sight of all that ammo he’d go insane; he closed the box and hid it with the same care he found it. The second one… was the jackpot, he pulled out a bandage and a small first aid and closed the box, putting it aside. He stood up and stretched, needing to finish what he was doing in the first place, he turned to walk out of Eleanor’s cell… that was until he looked down and posed his gaze on her little night stand.

He wide eyed, light blue eyes big in surprise. His free hand stretched over and reached the small table, his hand closed curling around something and forming a fist… containing it. When he lifted his hand closer to his face he opened it and attentively observed the beaded bracelet he had before him. He snorted, and realized he didn’t even notice Eleanor didn’t have it that morning; he wanted to smirk, but who will he smirk to…. He wanted to tease her, but she was not around. The sound of approaching steps was the queue for him to keep moving, tugging the little thing in his pocket, he crossed the door.

“Oh! You found a small aid-kit”

“Yeah… here” he offered the small box to Beth, and walked alongside her. She side glanced at him and Carl could almost read the question on her forehead, he saved her the bother. “At first I thought my dad would have them, but Eleanor has always been the one still saving them up” She snorted and nodded. But then, she looked down and her smile disappeared, Carl turned to her with a frown.

“Scary… isn’t it. With all that has happened; the incident yesterday and the breach today… that was actually not a breach” she tried to joke it out but failed “Patrick dead and many others… the infirmary is a mess, Bob is doing his best but….”

“It won’t be enough” Carl finished for her, she nodded and but her lower lip. He sensed that maybe, It was Beth’s way to show concern for his father, he had been exposed. He had that fear too, thinking that he might fall sick…. That Eleanor might fall sick. He frowned, and shook his head “There’s nothing we can do about it, only take charge of Block C”

“We all… have our jobs to do” the older teenager smiled and looked back at the younger one; with that silent agreement, she entered Michonne’s cell. Carl watched her go, while he stayed outside. His body unconsciously leaned on the wall next to it, his gaze unfocused at the grey sight of the floor and his thoughts started escaping free in his mind; without noticing, he had pulled out the beaded bracelet and was turning it around his fingers.

 

 

There were many things that didn't add up; he knew Patrick was not feeling alright, but from that to dying over the night it was too much of a stretch. He wanted to know what exactly happened, was he the only one? How was it possible for one walker to cause a ruckus over the night and morning?.... maybe if he tempted his luck, he could catch some information once Andrea returned. Just as he thought about it, the metal door opened and Andrea walked inside, beside her was Maggie. Carl frowned and the people in the cells came out intrigued. 

"We just came out of the council meeting and there are important points that you must be aware of"

Andrea started, and so did the murmurs around the young man. He looked at Beth and Michonne that tried their best to hear from her cell. Carl pushed around people until he reached a corner and listened attentively. "First of all, there has been no breach. Yesterday night, a young boy named Patrick died and turned... the reason for this death seems to be an unknown form of cold. The people in block D have already been evacuated and will soon be relocated while Block D is properly cleaned. Sadly, there has been several casualties, in my hands, I have a list of the people identified and whose bodies will be moved and buried over the course of the afternoon. Finally; the other members of the group are currently investigating the source of this disease and finding the fastest treatment possible, but the possibilities of the cold spreading are great, therefore... from this point on it is prohibited the course and direct interaction between people of Block D and C; at least until the problem is resolved"

Andrea's last words were muffled by an uneven shower of protests. She tried t calm them down but at the end, it was Maggie who called for silence and encouraged people to ask one question at a time. Many of them were about the so-called disease, people wanted to know if there were more infected, if it was lethal and dangerous. Some people asked about water and supplies, some about how daily duties should be shared..... but the question that captured Carl's attention was probably the most disturbing one

"Patricks body will be buried too? Is it going to be dissected?"

A good question that was, the whole hallway fell silent and Maggie gave a short glance to Andrea before the later answered. 

"Patrick's body is going to be incinerated"

Again, some protests could be heard; Carl grimaced at the situation, there were people that already were saying the disease was lethal, tuberculosis some said.... they were a step away from real panic. Maggie called for silence again, saying that it was all they had and more information will come over the course of the day.... she then walked through the mass of people, along with Andrea; and they began giving notice of the people that died and who in Block C knew them at all. 

 

 

Suffocated, Carl walked away and reached the entrance of Block C, he pushed the metal door open…  walking outside; it was hardly noon, and he saw Daryl on a side of the field, where he proceeded to dig graves. Carl frowned; was it such a horrible decision to burn Patrick? If it were to him, he would burn them all down just in case it was something serious. He wondered if it was Eleanor's brilliant idea to be soft about this.... and frowned annoyed; maybe it was Hershel and Caleb that convinced to be less harsh. He looked more carefully at Daryl's face, he had a kerchief around it, Carl doubted it was because of the dust… it made no sense, it was too much of a risk…

“I told you to go inside” He turned around, his father walked next to him; he kept his two-feet distance.

“You told me to keep away from Block D” he commented back. Both Grimes looked at the field; and a small silence trained, Carl decided to give it a shot “How the council went?”

 

His father didn’t answer right away; he didn't need to... Carl was just testing waters. His father hasn't assisted a council meeting in at least six months… around the same time, he forced him to separate from his handgun and hunting blade, around the same time Eleanor started hanging around him during her late night shifts. The older Grimes exchanged gazes with his son, he still looked more worried than annoyed.

“Eleanor and the council are taking control of the situation” he concluded. Carl restrained a huff and frowned. How in control of the situation were they in reality?....... What about the fences? Who was going to make runs? "Who's going to take care of everything else in the meantime?"

His father didn't answer; Carl wondered if it was because he didn't know or because he didn't consider important for his son to know. More annoyed Carl added "What about us? What will we do in the meantime?" Rick sighed. This has been an issue dragged for too long, and Carl was tired of running away from it. His father never answered, an after that small silence, the teen decided to continue "Dad... I get it, you know... what happened back then, why did you take the break; why we both did" he began "I've been trying, I think I was past it..."

"Yeah, you've been trying" he conceded, both stormy eyes turned to each other, and Carl sighed. 

"I understood what you meant.... I shouldn't have killed that guy" Carl started " Maybe I should have spared him, let him get away.... maybe he'd be with us now; I'm not... proud of what I did... but I don't regret it either" his father sighed, and rubbed his eyes, before he would disregard his words, Carl hurried to add "What I'm trying to say is... that we don't have to shut fown from everything, I told you to take a break, because other people could take your place... right now we nee- no you need to step up again; and once this is done we can go back to farming... who says we cannot do both!"

"Carl..." his father began but Carl cut him out again 

"This is not about a lesson anymore! more people will die... If we don't help Elle and the rest-"

 

 

"Rick! Rick!... the fences!" Their conversation got cut off suddenly. They both turned to look at Glenn that alerted them, all that time they were talking to each other, they didn't notice Daryl making signals and calling out at them... without the usual group at the fences that morning, the walkers accumulated on one side  of the fence and it was already bobbling; it would take much before it gave in and the walkers got inside. 

"Get Tyreese and Sasha! Anyone you can get hold of that has been exposed!" his father ordered and Glenn rushed back inside Block D, he then turned to Carl "Get inside" 

He sprinted to the outer fence, leaving no room for discussion. Carl took a moment to look at the scene; it was terrifying, he imagined the walkers passing through the gate and taking down the rest of people that remained, he imagined the panic this would cause around the people, no organization.... they would all perish. Glenn reappeared with the people his father ordered to come. He could see Sasha, Tyreese, and though at first, even if his father said no unexposed people were allowed, Andrea was able to come into the mix. He connected the dots, all of them were 'exposed', all of them could have the disease. A shiver ran down his spine, and he battled against the sudden panic... Eleanor was also exposed, did that mean she would get the disease? will she die like Patrick? were they all going to die like Patrick?

"Carl, you need to go inside" It was Maggie, she extended her arm but never got close enough to touch it..., he turned around and entered without another word. Once out of sight he rushed to meet the second floor and the sentinel bridge Eleanor used to make her night shifts, he crouched and looked at the field. They formed a line all along the fence, as people did every morning, Carl reached out the binoculars that laid around and took a better look... he soon realized it was not the same. Even if the people that took care of the walkers did that every day, he realized there was some... dexterity, especially in the people that had fought walkers in a closer contact before; his father was fast, so were Andrea, Daryl, and Glenn. They seemed to have some kind of hope to contain it, but the bodies were pooling on the ground and the remaining dead used it as leverage to gain height, soon their heads couldn't be easily reached, they hade more fence to cling on to, and the bobbling of it got worse... it started bending towards the people, Car gasped and almost considered shouting to alert them, but they realised and stepped back; then his father pinted side ways giving instructions, he followed his storming silouette in direction to the hatchery.  

He let the binoculars aside, he didn't need to watch to know what as going to happen, what his father intended to do to drive the walkers away, it hurt him enough to not see it and yet... A certain sensation rushed through him, he didn't know how to describe it, or if it had a name.... but he could recognize it so clearly. It wasn't unpleasant, it moved and made him focused, his mind cleared; he felt like this so many times before... when he fought for his life when he saved Tyreese and Sasha... when the governor attacked. He looked down, and frowned... standing up again, he went inside the prison; he needed something to do, he didn't want to think of outside, of the piglets that now were crying their lungs out for help, for the people that were scared... suffering from the losses on Block D, for Eleanor and Hershel... that were supposed to find out what it was and stop it... for the other children, like Patrick, that might die. He sighed and searched for some tools on the old common area of Block C.... thinking he might not be able to fight, but might at least to something. 

 

 

"Carol told me you would be here" 

Carl looked up, found his father at the entrance of the common room; he didn't look at him... but at the work around him. Small wooden tablets, made with the name of selected people lied around him...... Curious way that he stumbled around the list of dead people that Andrea had on her power. Indeed, it was Carol herself that gave it to him once she noticed what he tried to do. He caught on the distressed frown his father shot his way, maybe the sight with him on the floor, surrounded by mortuary tablets, was something twisted to behold... he was not going to care. 

"Did it work? The piglets...." Carl asked, not really expecting any information out of it, more interested in how his father would react.... he wanted to see if his father still trusted him with something that basic.

"How do you know about that?"

"The fence was giving in... then I heard them scream" He commented, and turned to face him "then there's the smell of smoke..." his father considered his answer and grunted in approval "Did you think the piglets were sick too?"

"As things are getting we could make them sicker than the other way around" he commented, and Carl grimaced. He wondered if Eleanor wouldn't be mad not having the hatchery to analyze on... "That's not what I wanted to talk to you about" 

Carl stood up and noticed that his father's hands weren't empty. They held a blue metal case that he didn't recognize; but once his father walked to the side and opened it, it made complete sense. The young teen looked down at the object presented to him; reluctantly... he extended his hand to grasp it, the unusual weight made it wobble, but little by little... his body started remembering. The metal in his hands, he traced the weapon with his eyes and his fingertips turned and drew the intricate pattern that he thought he hadn't seen for far too long. This time around he reaching int he small chest for the other thing that was missing, his handgun and looked at them both for a moment, before turning his light blue eyes to the ones of his father. 

This one analyzed the actions of this son very closely. Once he regained the attention of the young man he exhaled a sigh. 

"I need you to remain here, and protect  Beth... and your sister" he began, and reached out to rub his chin, unsure of how to continue. If Carl were to be completely honest with himself, he would have wanted his father to say that he was right all along, and it was time to come back, but instead, the older man nodded "I trust you can do it... right son?"

Carl considered his father for a moment, and let out his breath slowly. He felt as if something heavy had been lifted from his shoulders as if his beliefs weren't simply disregarded but considered.... as if a fear and incertitude has been lifted, and he could be himself again. 

"Once this is over, we'll go back to the field" Carl reassured him "Eleanor will learn how to work it too... it will be alright"

His father snorted and smirked, Carl had the sudden urge to reach out and hug him, or expect that his father would touch his head, his shoulder... but Eleanor's advise burned deep in their minds, they just stared at each other. The child gave a little smile, and together they picked up the tablets that Rick intended to take outside to be properly placed over the already used graves. It was when his father turned to leave with the set of wooden plates that Carl stopped him. The old sheriff turned and frowned, not expecting the seriousness with which his son was looking at him.

"I have to tell you something.... about Carol"

 

 

 

_Carol’s been teaching the kids how to use weapons; how to kill. Their parents don’t know, and she…. She came to me, asking me not to tell you. She fears you’ll tell them and she’ll have to stop. I get where she’s coming from, they need to learn how to defend themselves…. I think, maybe we should let her._

 

Raising his rifle and looking through the scope, Carl looked at the walkers that already started to accumulate over the fences. More would be on the way, and by the next morning, the piglets sacrifice would have been for nothing. He sighed frustrated, and put the weapon aside. Sat in Eleanor’s sentinel post, he was determined to make the night shift of that day. Surprisingly, nobody told him otherwise, it seemed nobody was in the position to take his place, and any capable help could have been truly appreciated.  The reality of that statement made him, if possible, more restless.

He remembered the conversation with his father, and to some extent, Carl feared his father will do something about Carol… even if he told him otherwise. The woman had changed the lot since he met her…. Since she lost Sophia. Every time he looked back at the episode it was in pain, regret and now shame…. As he came to understand that grief is real and people cope with it in different ways; when he was younger he thought feeling sad about it was stupid, foolish and a waste of mind…… he didn’t know loss them, he knew it now. Still, he had the sensation that the woman never truly recovered from it, that she lost or gained something she didn’t have before, and he couldn’t trust on that something. He sighed at the moment that train of thought coupled with Eleanor, the person he had been thinking about since that morning, the reason he was now getting up to have the second round of the evening already.

He descended the stairs and walked down the hallway to reach the entrance of Block C. He understood why Eleanor preferred to do the night shifts, even if she was a cranky head the next morning. It was quiet, empty and at the same time…. You knew you weren’t alone, it was reassuring.  That afternoon was another almost fall into chaos; the problem in the fences was not we received, and whole new time was formed, Block C and D were still separated, and one day one would take of the fences and the other day the other one… and so forth. There were not many volunteers on either side, people had rumors saying that the disease came with the walkers, that the water they got by the river was contaminated, that the filters were broken.  The atmosphere was thick, the fear was almost corporeal and Carl hated it, if he had been younger he would be scared shitless.

 

The sudden sound of metal echoed through the large walls of the hallway and Carl froze. By the muffled touch it had, he assumed it came from the outside, steeling himself…. He walked forward. There shouldn’t be anyone roaming around anywhere at that hour. He knew that he was the only one making rounds on Block C for that matter. Who would be walking around at these hours for whatever reason..... He wide-eyed, and he almost crashed face first on the closed metal door that separated him from the last door that took him to the courtyard.

His body almost moved on its own, opening the door and walking to the last barrier, he let him. A small hint of guilt surged n his chest, but it was drowned by a huge expectation, hope…. And fear. He feared there was nothing beside the door, and at the same time he expected that there was nothing. He wasn’t sure what would happen, what would he say or ask… how would he react, maybe it was better if there was nothing, The door opened, and in between the desolate blues an blacks around him, light blue eyes searched for dark brown ones.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, First of all, I would like to apologize and explain my long absence. These past weeks I've had a ton of things to do and between my studies and work, I was left with close to no time to write this chapters, especially since I wanted to give the sickness in season 4 a real sense (There was no explanation to the medicine our cause in the TV series which I really hated). Marking on it little by little, time passed and I just finished it. They are two so at least that's something. 
> 
> Nonetheless, I thank for the support and comments, I hope you like it.


	3. The sickness

 

 

She felt herself falling, and before her head could hit the ground in quite the forceful way… she lifted it up, tensing the muscles of the neck and back. Her shoulder blades took the impact instead, and she was left without air for a couple of seconds… to her dismay, those couple of seconds weren’t something that she could spare given the fact two lines of deadly teeth were coming closer and closer to bite off her flesh. She buckled her legs up and used them to make some space within her and her attacker. The creature swung it’s arms around in hate while her hand desperately searched inside of her pants pockets…. Pulling out a small pocket knife, she pushed her legs up all the way and the walker fell to her side. Eleanor got up and pinned it down fast, burying the small blade on one eye, then the other… then a couple of more strikes, fearful the blade was too small to reach beyond the bone and down the cavity that would stop the nonsense. Once she registered the creature was no longer moving, she gave a sharp intake of breath.... as if holding it in all that time. She grimaced at the bloodied face that she failed to recognize, either way, it was not the face she hoped to find. She turned around and the sunlight momentarily blinded her. Careful to not trip with the shred curtain on the floor, she got up and rushed outside the cell, looking around her. 

Her senses were mercilessly attacked once again; it was happening all at once, the screams of panic of the people around her, the grunts of the walkers that she still couldn't understand where they came out from; then... there was the thunderous sound of gunfire, followed almost instantly by the feeling of pain on her face. Instinctively, Eleanor turned her head away and covered it with her hands... she coughed as she felt on her tongue the characteristic taste of dirt.... concrete. She turned to the source in panic... A bullet hit straight against the corner of the wall beside her and it splintered, cutting her cheek. 

 

Eleanor spotted the man that had the firearm... and launched forward; having more time to show her emotions she would have cringed at the sight of it. He could have been helpful at first, but his own fear and inexperience played against him, even with a rifle he wasn't able to protect himself... a walker launched and attacked him, as a reflection movement he kept on firing... errant bullets hitting the building, walkers and people alike. Eleanor tried to swim past the people at first, but scratched the option entirely once she saw a walker about to attack a young boy... she pinned the attacker against the wall and killed ir using her blade just like she did before. Covered in rotten blood, she turned to the child that quivered in the dark corner of the metal stairs. With a worried frown, she launched over and took him by the arm, dragging him inside an empty cell. The child squirmed and cried in horror while she closed the metal door after him. 

"Don't come out" she ordered and excited to the hall again. She looked around her and knew that this would just not do. “Those close to the door leave! Courtyard! Those too far... Find an empty cell and lock yourselves inside!” Eleanor screamed from the top of her lungs, heads turned her way and some obeyed her orders…. those that were in the center or on the second floor didn't think twice before taking the second option. Far too late to her impression, she reached the man with the rifle... using her knife, she debarrassed herself from the walker that was feasting on him and took the weapon; cursing she turned the large empty weapon around and used it to smash heads as she could...

That's how Rick and the others found her when they arrived. 

 

"Eleanor!" she found herself next to Rick. Daryl and Glenn rushed past her, crossbow and machete in hand, they took walkers down faster than she could have ever managed. She felt one heavy hand on her shoulder and the other one reaching for her own, that's when her hand grasped the larger blade offered to her. She handed the rifle to the former sheriff, that with his own force managed to do more than she did before.

"A breach? How many?" he asked while taking down walkers beside her. Eleanor looked around for a moment and noticed that Tyreese and Sasha also arrived, making a more organized evacuation of the people.... there weren't much left inside at that point.

"I don't know, I've taken down 5... at least 6. Most people are out by now but some are inside their cells" Rick nodded and called Daryl. Eleanor turned around to notice the panic had started to subside. The man came back with a concerned face, at the same time Tyreese returned to the cell block... alone. 

"There are people inside those cells, get them out check if they are bitten and take them to the infirmary" the other man nodded and took out a set of keys, Rick gave a last glance at Eleanor before walking away.

"They are on their way outside with Sasha and Karen, Checking if any are injured" Eleanor nodded thanks to the black man,  but before she could walk away he  asked, "How did this happen?"

Indeed... How could this have happened?

 

Rick and Daryl began pulling the people out confirming they weren't bitten... some cries of surprise were heard when people came out.... looking at the carnage before them. Eleanor still felt her heart beating out of her ribcage, everything happened so fast. Her senses went numb after that... the silence of the cellblock engulfing her like a void. She wanted to walk and do stuff... help them, so she tried to walk; but there was this force preventing her to move. Eleanor looked forward focusing her eyes... her deep brown barely recognizing the familiar hazel.

"Eleanor, are you alright" Caleb had her by the shoulders, she frowned confused. Was he there all the time? How long was 'all the time'?

"Who's on the infirmary?" she asked instead, disregarding his concern; he let her go confused and realizing she had been rude she moved her head trying to rephrase her words "I mean, I thought you were in the infirmary... there must be a hoard of injured people there..."

"I came to check on Patrick and left Bob in charge" he explained; she wide-eyed, and her eyes scanned around the corpses that lay on the ground. She must have given the wrong impression because Caleb grabbed her shoulder again... worried. "Maybe it would be better if you came with me" he gently asked. 

"Come on," she said, ignoring him one more time. She crouched and turned around the stiff corpse of one walker, examining his face and letting him fall again in disappointment, she turned to repeat the process around the others; soon she started staking one after the other in a row. Doctor Caleb Subramanian looked at her with a mixture of worry and reluctance; soon he was accompanied by Tyreese and Hershel... that seemed to just arrive. 

  

“Will you stop staring and help me…” she grunted, Tyreese reluctantly approached and helped her move around the bodies to form the line.

“Child… what are you doing?” Hershel asked with a tired sigh and a patient gaze; more used to the young woman’s unusual behaviors

“There are certain things we cannot ignore..." she began while moving one more walker, breaking up the pile that had formed on one corner "This has never happened before, not once we settled in; a breach this late into preparation is too unlikely to occur... this had to be something else" Tyreese glanced at her and deposited one more body  "I came here searching for Patrick, and he was not in his cell... He was sick"

“Are you implying that he died and turned?” Hershel clarified, but before Eleanor could even elaborate further, Caleb interjected.

“That can’t be possible, I checked on him yesterday; it was a common cold…. Nobody dies on the second day of a common cold” Caleb snapped back. Eleanor stopped and raised, rubbing her low back while taking a breath… she faced the doctor with a surprised face, then she frowned.

"This attack is too located to be a breach, Block C would have been affected"

"That doesn't imply that Patrick and his seasonal cold would be the cause of this" Hershel gazed at both young adults, and resisted the urge to raise a brow... or roll his eyes for that matter. Eleanor raised her feathers bothered by  Dr. Subramanian's own deep-rooted character. The older man sighed, the times Eleanor's bad temper arose were when fighting with Andrea... and that never had a good ending. 

 

“We are not even sure if he's indeed deceased,  we could find Patrick among the ones that managed to scape” the old man reasoned, trying to avoid any greater conflict. However, before he could add anything else, he was cut off by Tyreese. His voice resonated in between the small group, Hershel would question himself later if Rick and Daryl, that were in the second floor inspecting the last cells, could have been able to hear it.

"I found him...” dark brown eyes gave a sharp turn in his Tyreese's direction. She walked forward, and was followed soon after by the doctor and the old veterinarian.  

 

Eleanor couldn't help but gasp... once she recognized Patrick; a sudden shiver ran up from her lower back to her neck, giving her an odd sensation of repulsion and pain... his eyes, mouth, and nose were covered on blood, red... dry blood. His bluish skin made the contrast even more evident. her hand approached it reluctantly, but once she touched the cold flesh, she pushed her emotions away and turned the body for inspection. Despite initial complaints, Caleb and Hershel joined the crouched man and woman.

“He’s not bitten” Tyreese voiced her conclusion, she just managed to give a frustrated sigh. 

"This happened before turning to a walker," signaling the trails of red blood on his face "Could it be possible that he died from this?" she tempted, Caleb spoke beside her. 

"Most likely," he said turning the head around, "pleurisy aspiration, pressure broke alveolar tissue.... he chocked on his own blood" he said grimacing at the perspective, Eleanor wide-eyed and couldn't help but show her own discomfort; the Indian doctor let the head go as it hanged to a side "There doesn't seem to be any other injuries..... you were right, he was sick.... and he died" he said with a distressed sigh. Eleanor turned to look at him and she was about to apologize, but another voice echoed through the large common area. It was Daryl, who called for the three of them... Eleanor, Caleb, and Hershel. 

 

 

She arrived first, jumping the stairs two at a time, Caleb following closely behind. She turned to look at Daryl and then Rick with a questioning look, confused to why she had been called… until her eyes landed on the reason for it. There, caged in his cell, was Charlie… a man that she knew more by name than by face; his arms stretched over the metal bars to grab hold of any of them, his teeth clacked at the air while his grunts echoed close to her ear; but it was the distinct path of dried red blood over his eyes, mouth and nose that managed to upset her the most. She almost walked forward to kill it, but another blade beat her to it; she turned her face only to collide with stormy blue eyes… They exchanged a look of worry and foreboding before Daryl opened the door to the cell. Half of them entered, Eleanor first; she crouched over the body and inspected it with the same care she did with Patrick.

“No bites… or scratches, nor other injuries” she informed the rest due to the lack of space “Why was he locked up? was he sick?” Eleanor turned to Daryl, who she knew was more acquaintanced to the man.

“Charlie did that every night, he used to sleepwalk all the time” Daryl commented, but shook his head “sick? He was just eating barbeque yesterday, he didn’t look that sick to me….. I don’t know”

“Did he came to you these days?” she turned to Caleb but this one shook his head in denial.

“What do you mean by all that… sick?” Rick pointed to the corpse “I’ve seen those marks on a walker before, is it a sickness from them?” the former sheriff demanded.

“This is not a walker disease, at least, we don’t think it is…. but It could be the cause of death” she explained, “We found this on Patrick too, he was not feeling well... we thought it was a common cold-”

“Patrick? Patrick is dead?” it was Daryl who asked

“We found his corpse, same marks, no bites” Tyreese intervened, “Dr. S said was… lung pressure?” he said rather unsure.

“Pleurisy aspiration. When it is too hard to breathe and pressure builds up your lungs, they explode… there’s tissue damage, blood accumulates in the injured lungs and comes out of respiratory cavities…” He stopped and his worried face turned to Eleanor, who gave him the same distressed face; Hershel sighed and Rick rubbed his face, deeply bothered.

"Violet... " he began and Eleanor turned to him "She's has been sick for the past two days too... not eating, I found her dead this morning"

"The pig?" She asked 

"Pigs and birds," Hershel said, Eleanor turned to him "That's how these things spread in the past"

"But what could it be?" Glenn asked concerned, he turned to the three possible people that could answer. Rick waited for at least a suggestion, and his ice-blue stare landed on the younger of them. She frowned and looked down bothered. 

"I've never seen something like this before" Caleb was the one to talk "We have close to no information, it could be anything... viral, bacterial"

"We've all been exposed, the people on Block D too... we don't know for sure how much this could spread" Hershel ended for him.

 

 

Like a tomb, a painful silence reigned in the room; maybe it had only been for a couple of minutes, but Eleanor found it unbearable. Her mind tried to process how that morning changed so much in so little time, she tried to think in what would she be doing now instead. Carl's face came to her mind and she felt a lump forming in her throat, a guilt and worry that was followed by fear.... for him, for Judith, for herself. She had been exposed, Rick too... were they now infected? Will she die like Patrick? Will Carl get infected if she approached?..... What could she do... What could she do to stop it?.... to control it. 

She got up in a jump, startling the people around her. Rick stood up too, looking at her in confusion. 

"If we don't know what it is then... we need to contain it, learn from it; now," she said in a serious decisive tone, she turned to Hershel "If you dissected Violet, would you be able to tell from what she died?"

"I could try, we would know if it was flu or food poisoning" He slowly moved to get out "I'll get my tools"

"That's something we could use, thank you" she conceded and turned to the rest "As Hershel just said, we could all be infected, we don't know how it spreads so we should treat it like an air and water pathogen; therefore... the people of Block D mustn't under any circumstances cross over or get in contact with Block C, think of it as a strong strain of flu" she turned to Tyreese "Food must be separated and rationed, can you take care of Block D for me" 

"What will we tell them about this?" he said in a worried tone "They'll want to know what happened"

"Tell them the truth..." she said after a defeated sigh "That some kind of strong flu had killed an inmate that turned and attacked the others, that we are investigating the matter but that as a precaution measure they must keep from touching others... in any form" she then turned to Glenn. "We need to call for a council meeting, summarize what we know and what needs to be done" she looked around with a frown, recognizing the faces that were before her "From the council, who's not here?.... Andrea and Maggie?"

"Probably the only ones.... why?" Hershel asked 

"Then only one of them is allowed to assist to the meeting" she deadpanned, Glenn was about to ask why but she cut him short "We can't risk being all exposed.... if the worst were to happen, we need someone clean, healthy to take over; be it whoever decides to stay put" she said the last part with a side glance, one that Glenn understood. He got up without another word and ran for the door. 

"Daryl, I'll need your help moving the bodies, we are going to determine who was bitten and who was sick. We need to know how many were really There" With a nod, he took Charlie's body and started dragging him downstairs "Don't harm them! I need to know what they died of!" she raised her voice 

"You women are never okay with anything" he spat back. Eleanor got up and so did the two last persons with her, she turned to Caleb and this one frowned. 

"Don' you think we are getting ahead of ourselves?"

"I think we are reacting too late" she answered back "I prefer to be paranoid than to ignore what's right on my face" she commented and Caleb snorted, looking down and shaking his head "Will you check the corpses with me? Can you take it?"

"I can take it" he walked down the stairs.

 

Once his head disappeared she sighed and touched her nose bridge. She looked to her right and considered the man that stood beside her. He looked back at her, maybe mirroring the expression she was facing him with. 

"Carl's outside?" she asked, and he nodded. "Then that's good" she looked down with a little smile. With a loud intake of breath, she got straight again "Will you supervise Hershel, help him if he needs something?"

The police officer nodded again, and she gave him a tired yet relieved smirk. She was grateful he was there, she truly was... she couldn't have made it alone and, at the same time, she felt she had not the right to ask him to take leadership again... or get involved for that matter. It was hard enough that he risked being exposed and had now to keep away from his own children. Even if she wanted to ask him to help her, she decided to say anything. He walked down the stairs and gave her a last look before walking through the metal door, Eleanor watched him leave and once he did, she turned to her left, looking down a the corpses that were being moved, aligned.... at the trail of blood they left behind. With another large intake of breath, she joined the working men. 

 

 

 

Eleanor supported her weight on the table while she reclined forward her stretched arms handed over some papers to each of the people present on the council. As Eleanor suspected, the only one that was not present was Maggie…. In the end, Glenn took her suggestion seriously, and convinced her to stay put while Andrea became the next between them and Block C. Eleanor was grateful for that.

“Here’s what we know for the moment… there was a breach on Block D, we account for 15 bodies, we have already identified more than 12, but all faces are familiar. We suspect Patrick was the index case but we could be wrong, we found 5 corpses that were not bitten or scratched, they died from a lethal disease…”

“Two days” Carol put down the paper she read attentively. She had taken care of the Samuels sisters after their father was found to have been bitten on the spine and stomach. Counting her in, only one of the seven people present deliberately exposed themselves to danger “That’s too short, can it be that aggressive? Do you have any idea of what it is?”

“Dr. Subramanian is checking his notes and clinical histories at the moment. Patrick showed the symptoms of a common cold…. Tiredness, coughing, fever, sneezes….” She explained but not bothered to elaborate once she made sure all were following her pace, “Violet has been moved, Hershel will check on the animal for possible clues-”

“We all know it’s lethal” he intervened “and could possibly spread like a cold does, through spit, shaking hands, sharing food; that’s why it’s important to have both Blocks as isolated as possible."

“But where can we put them…. They can’t go back to Block D” Andrea objected “They need to be in a clean place, where you can take care of them”

“Block A, death row” Daryl suggested “it’s clear; it was high security so it’s isolated”

“Quarantine? Isn’t that too extreme” Glenn asked

“It won’t if we don’t make it look like and imprisonment, only relocation; me and Caleb, we’ll take care of it…. That could also give us the opportunity to make some interviews, know if more people showed the same symptoms and what they were doing the past two days”

“What will we do about the bodies?” Eleanor turned to the owner of the question and sighed resigned. Sasha had the same bothered expression as she did, it was a difficult question. Eleanor, as what turned around her head, knew they were to burn all of them, sick or not, just in case something might spread; but just imagining the outrage and panic it could cause, the chaos that will come after… she was almost scared of it. She looked around her, and most people waited for her response. She was alone in this decision, she felt that whatever she said she would be supported, and it was that unquestionable support that made her feel like she just couldn’t be wrong… it scared her.

“Well burn the corpses confirmed as with the disease” Eleanor concluded “the People that died bitten and such can be buried, usually infectious diseases are more infectious when they have already developed on the host, so that people are not likely to represent a risk” she turned around and Daryl stood up

“I’ll take care of it”

“Just in case, cover your face with a mask… and use gloves, we can’t ever be too careful” he nodded and was about to walk away… when they heard the echo of a strong cough coming from the hallway.

 

Carol stood up first and Eleanor followed close behind. Turning the corner, they watched Tyreese and Karen walking down the hallway. Carol was about to call them back but Eleanor stopped her and ran to meet them.

“Ty… hey, you weren’t at the council meeting….. Everything alright?” she gave a little smile and prayed the black man wouldn’t pick on her forced casual tone

“Yeah, we… I…” he hesitated and looked at Karen that that covered her mouth as she coughed.

“Karen, are you okay?” she urged a little more.

“It’s… she’s just a little tired, I was taking her to my cell so she could rest” By the moment he finished that sentence, Eleanor gave a little turn and looked behind her… she mentally cursed, having all the members of the council right at her back, watching and listening to the exchange; Tyreese looked at them and frowned, well… there goes the subtlety.  “Ty… you know you can’t take her to Block C; actually, we’ve been thinking to relocate the people in Block D to a new clean emplacement, while we take care of disinfecting it”

“Is this because of the flu?” asked Karen “Tyreese told me that it was strong and dangerous? Is it lethal?”

Eleanor looked at the back man in front of her, considering her answer. True, the man looked bothered, even restless… he knew it killed Patrick, Charlie and possibly more were infected…. It was highly probable that the results were going to be the same. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat, at that moment Hershel, Glenn and Daryl started moving, only Andrea and Carol remained and Eleanor concluded they weren’t going to move.

“Yes, he’s right…. It seems to be quite strong. It seems to have started in Block D so I don’t want to spread it…. Especially since in Block C we have children, and Judith; she’s too young and vulnerable… even for a common cold”

“Yeah…. Of course” Karen assented.... Carol, Eleanor assumed was impatient on the whole situation, stepped forward to grab her and take her to the supposed new emplacement. At the moment he stepped forward, Tyreese put a protective arm around Karen, the panicked and a mistrustful expression never left him.

“But you know what it is now… Don’t you? It can be treated”

“We are doing our best” she almost grimaced at her ambiguous answer “The only thing I want is to Karen to remain here, Caleb and I are going to be around day and night… she’ll be fine” she reassured him.

“I’ll take her” Carol offered and it was Karen who reluctantly let go of Tyreese, ready to follow Carol.

“David from the Decatur group, he’s been coughing too” she hurried to say to Eleanor before she walked away with Carol. The young woman thanked her with a small smile, and didn't take her eyes from the pair until they were out of sight.

 

Before the silence made itself evident she turned to look at Tyreese. The young man, as she learned over the past few months, preferred to guard his opinions to himself; there were really counted times when she actually saw him give away to his emotions, this time around… as she saw it, he was an inch of giving to panic.

“You didn’t tell her that Patrick died from the sickness” she stated, “That’s good; we still don’t know how it evolves, maybe if we contain it on time…. It’ll pass, like all types of flu do”

“Then…. Will she be alright?” he rushed to ask. Eleanor gave him a little smile; she knew he was anxious…. It must be hard; to have looked at the damage the sickness could cause and fear that someone you care so deeply for might have the same thing.

“I’ll ask Caleb to give her medicine for the coughing and possible fever that might arise later…. As you said, maybe is something else, but you understand that I can’t take the chance”

He nodded and promising he would send her way any other people he saw in the same conditions, he walked away.

 

 

 

_« Food poisoning, are you sure? »_

_“Her liber is destroyed and she has swelling in the stomach and intestines, but other than that…. There is nothing, the pattern doesn’t follow”_

_“6 more were reported as sick, showing symptoms of an advanced respiratory infection; one of them collapsed with high fever”_

_“We can’t risk it and use antibiotics without knowing what it is! If it was a virus, the antibiotics would weaken the person and it could make it worse”_

_“Anti-inflammatories and painkillers… we don’t even have any strong medicine against fever”_

_“It doesn’t add up, Charlie asked me something for headaches three days ago, and Patrick collapsed in two days only… Maybe it’s not the same thing”_

_“Patrick has asthmatic, maybe made it worse”_

_“People want to know why you burned his body; they are all thinking it’s some kind of epidemic like tuberculosis”_

_“The fence almost gave out this afternoon, Rick had to sacrifice the piglets to divert the walkers away, and without the people to take charge it will only happen again….”_

 

 

She heard the flutter of papers as they fell to her feet. Hypnotized by the form it took on the ground, she stared at them with an emotionless expression until she finally bent over to pick them on a harsh move. With a thump and a clatter, she deposed them beside a small notebook and a ridiculously large microbiology book. Ridiculously large, yes…. For all that information served useless for her at the moment.

Eleanor cursed on her mind, for maybe the tenth time that single afternoon; she wished she had her hand watch with her, she knew Caleb would walk through that door anytime soon and change shifts with her….. It would upset her that they were still way too far and lost to come up with a solution, pieces of a puzzle that didn’t fit…. Coincidences that were there only to be in her way.  Mentally suffocated, she got up and purposely walked the long desolate hallway…. All the way to the half-opened door, to the dark and narrow set of halls and doors that directed her outside.

It was way later than expected, the half-moon that shone that night was on the highest point in the sky…. Midnight, she assumed. As her feet dragged her without an apparent course, her gaze unfocused until she dived into her mind again and the world around her became nothing but a blur of dark colors.  It was now the infamous Block A, death row… as Daryl called; the real long mile, the final sentence, the end… Eleanor could go on until there was no more sun to burn in the sky. As dire as the situation might be, when she looked around the place, she understood the reluctance of people to go inside, the dark green color followed by the more elaborated cell doors to the bulletproof windows and entrance to the main hall. If Eleanor felt forced to declare a real quarantine then… that would be the place she would choose to keep on going. How long was that going to be? People already said it was an epidemic. They knew some symptoms, but that only served t identify and scare more people around them.... in the end, they had no idea and no means to know what the hell was that thing, how did it got inside and what would be the best way to treat it. She felt it has been days, but it was barely 24 hours. 

 

The sudden sound of metal echoed through the empty space around her and almost made her jump and gasp in fright, she looked around… emerging from her own mind bubble. She had kicked some random bucket that stood in the way, or was it that she stood in the way of the bucket; she was heading straight to a concrete wall.  She looked up and searched around for something to identify her exact location; when she found it, a strange expression formed on her face, it was a combination of her feelings: anger, resignation, desperation….. and a hint of guilt.

She stood there.... looking at the letter, painted white.... big and well defined for her to see. The real door, the real barrier was that letter; otherwise, it would only be another building. She sighed closing her eyes; almost afraid to look down at the door, waiting something would happen.... or ratter, that it didn't happen. She looked down, her default optimistic nature deafened her from the sound of metal, her eyes didn't need to focus.... in between all things to look at, dark brown eyes landed on light blue ones.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll have to apologize again, it took me a month to finally post this monster. As I explained in the last chapter, I took an impromptu break due to my work and studies. Finding time these days is hard; still, I rather take a little longer and give you my best than try to wrap up something, especially since I always thought that the flu outbreak in season 4 could have been a great storyline. 
> 
> Still, thank you for still following the story, truly appreciate it, :) hope to see you soon.


	4. The fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disease appeared in the prison; a sanctuary that, after much struggle, Rick and his group managed to build and develop. Nothing is known an Eleanor set on herself the task to discover what it is and how to treat it. However, people seem to die in mere days and time is running against her... what will happen?

 

 

 ~***~

 

_"I'm glad to see you safe"_

_Her voice came out as a faint whisper and she feared he didn't hear her. Indeed, for a long time, he said nothing... he only stared, that piercing ice-blue stare that went right through her. He was completely justified; she understood why her little friend was fuming at her and Eleanor would have felt her guilt eating her inside if it wasn't for the overwhelming sense of relief. He was not infected, so not infected he could even sulk about it. She grimaced distressed; he might misunderstand it but she couldn't help it, not when she fought so hard to remain nailed where she was._

 

_Carl tightened his fist to the point he could feel his nails piercing his skin. She grimaced and grabbed her arm, balancing her weight from one leg to another but never making an effort to come closer... Mad? She thought he was mad?..... He was bloody furious. Nevermind if she felt glad he was safe...... she was the one in danger, he should be the one to feel freaking glad she was not injured, so not injured she had the nerve to start up a conversation as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't been holding his breath all day long because of her and her unnerving need to assume everyone's responsibility._

_"You shouldn't be here" Carl bit his lower lip in punishment, his voice broke at the end. He glared with more intensity steeling himself again; he should be the one to get some kind of compensation. He wished to hear at least some sort of excuse... or better, all the juicy details that everyone else hid from him due to his age.... and that his older friend seemed to spill in a haste everytime her own guilt was too much for her to bare. Instead, she let out a sigh and gave a little smile, a sad.... tired one._

_"You are right... I shouldn't be" Eleanor answered accepting defeat, and for a moment Carl felt a twinge of fear inside him... thinking that she'd rather bolt and disappear for another day. Instead, she mused "You should be sleeping"_

_"I'm on night shift today"_

_"Oh... and they let you do it alone?"_

_"It's not like I can't handle it... we need the people" he answered back. He waited for a sulk, an unnerving retort or a condescending comment; but then.... then, she smiled. She wasn't fair, she has never been... Carl let out a resigned sigh._

 

_"Why are you here?"_

_Eleanor remained silent, limiting herself to gaze back at him... maybe she wasn't looking at him at all, and she just got lost in her thoughts. "I'm not sure...." she finally answered, a small smile appeared on her lips "My feet brought me here"_

_Carl frowned, clearly not impressed. Feet are not supposed to work on their own... and yet, it was Eleanor we were talking about. He looked to the side, to the kicked metal bucket, he bent over to grab it and put it back at its place... then proceeded to sit against the concrete wall beside it. The young woman analyzed his movements carefully, first with confusion... then with surprise. The young boy remained there looking back at her, a silent invitation that after some hesitation she decided to take. She walked over to him... to Carl's impression, way too slow. She sat next to him, a two-step distance between them._

_"is our deal still standing?" he suddenly asked, and Eleanor side glanced at him._

_"I don' recall having broken any deal with you... at least not consciously" she elaborated "Why?"_

_"Then you wouldn't hide anything from me" he inquired, his eyebrows knicked together and he turned his gaze to meet hers._

_"I will answer any question you ask me"_

 

 

  ~***~

 

 

"Time"

"5 minutes... no,  5 minutes 45"

 The click of the unfolding of a pocket knife made Eleanor look up to the doctor beside her; Caleb Subramanian kneeled over to insert the blade on the nape of on a middle-aged woman. Feeling the strain of the handkerchief that served as a face mask, Ellie returned to her former position... and her eyes couldn't help but land on the red blood drops that now appeared on the floor. She let out a sigh, while they both lifted the body of the woman to put her on a wheeled bed, once done... they took their face-masks to catch their breaths for a moment. 

 

"How long was last time?" the whispered conversation still seemed too loud to an over-stimulated Eleanor, who looked behind her in a swift move, making sure they were alone... futile as it may seem; no one would have the energy to peeve and walk around at this point. 

"10 minutes... Ms. Lucas had a heart condition; it could have worsened the lung  pressure"

"Are you sure you don't want to take a blood sample-"

"The last ones Ied me to nothing, I'll be only wasting the stain chemicals..." she answered defeated,  but the moment she looked up, she shot the man's way one of her twisted  smirks "But get me a pair of pliers and we might cut that ribcage.... the pulmonary tissue is what I really want and you know it"

"You are seriously insane" the Indian man commented while Eleanor snorted while pulling the moving bed out first, being careful to not trip over something

"What's that supposed to mean! I mean it!" Dr. S limited himself to shake his head and unsuccessfully hide a smile. His silhouette and that of the wheeled bed disappeared into the shadows of the entrance of Block A; only at that moment, her smirk disappeared. 

 

She walked back, and her eyes scanned the occupied cells for the possible help the people inside might need. Indeed, she approximated one where a young woman sat uncomfortably while bending over to cough with much difficulty. Eleanor couldn’t recognize her, and she walked to the middle sized table that contained a line of plastic coffee-cups and a thermos bottle; pouring some hot water, she covered her face with the handkerchief again before returning to the cell with the woman. She reacted to the arrive of Eleanor and this one signaled her to reach out her hand. Eleanor pulled from her right pocket a plastic pills case, she handed two pills to the convalescent woman and then gave her the hot water.

 

“Here, it will help you with the pain and the sore throat” she explained while sitting beside the woman. She looked at Eleanor for a moment before approximating the goblet to her mouth; Ellie subtlely reached her hand on her back and massaged, while doing so, she could feel the vibration…. The strain it took to breathe and to swallow mere water. She frowned distressed and wished to have more anti-inflammatory pills… or stronger for that matter. She returned back to reality when she felt movement and noticed the woman had finished her cup, but was still bending over… graving her chest and finching in pain. A small jump-like convulsion followed soon after and Elenor knew that she was trying to cough; she let her do so. The painful raspy tone came by, accompanied by the characteristic sound of phlegm that had been eliminated from the lungs. The woman stopped herself when she noticed it in her mouth and looked around in distress… searching for the small piece of cloth she used to receive it.

“It’s okay, spit it on the cup…. I’ll get rid of it later anyway” Eleanor suggested, and the woman did as she was told. Excusing herself, she walked back to the hallway, only giving a side glance to the woman before walking back to the small room at the end of the block. She practically ran to it, carefully maintaining the cup in her hands in perfect balance.

She would get rid of it…. Sure. It was not the same as saying she didn’t need it, and indeed… chance had given her the exact thing that she had been wishing to obtain since that early morning….. A clear, genuine sputum sample. Better than the ones she could get on the previous attempts; voicing her intentions only arose panic, false hopes and overall stress she didn’t need… that any person inside that block needed. She wondered… when did she start thinking so much about the reaction of the people around her; since when her actions weren’t entirely hers anymore.

 

She sat down and didn’t wait a minute longer before pulling out a clean slide and spreading some of the fresh sample on it. Lighting up her alcohol burner, she dried it completely… and proceeded to stain. The procedure came to her like a flashback... almost as if reviving her last year at college, she had the impression it had been a lifetime since then. She waited for it to dry and analyze it, and absentmindedly gazed at the steady flame before her. 5 minutes... it took 5 minutes for whole pleurisy aspiration to kick in. Once the person started coughing blood and having difficulty to breathe, it was a race against the angel of death himself. She feared the moment a new person started having coughing fits.... she refused to face the pain, the sudden sadness, and acceptance of the end.

Her brown eyes danced at the rhythm of the encompassing orange flame, so lost in her mind that she didn’t notice the silhouette resting against her open door. The dumbed voice echoed in the room and she turned around startled; trying to recollect in her memory... she hadn't listened to the Indian man at all. 

"Sorry... Say that again" she requested shaking her head to snap out of herself.  

“I just said that.... if anything of this would have happened… you would have been a great doctor”

She was expressionless but that didn’t mean the comment meant nothing to her. Was he that sure.... that sure she was made for this. She wasn't, she felt inside that she just couldn't take it. She hated to see someone agonizing and in pain, she hated to feel so powerless knowing her ignorance of a solution was a direct cause of the death of a person.

"You give me too much credit, I wanted to be a researcher.... it's easier... anyway" she commented, still with an emotionless expression. Her eyes unfocused, and her tiredness started playing games with her perception. 

She thought she saw him approach, she thought she saw him extending his globed hand an reaching to her. It only became a reality when that tentative hand reached her face, when his index finger traveled the length of her jaw and his thumb tried to reach past her chin and draw the form of her lips under the handkerchief. Intrusion, she reacted almost instinctively, grabbing the bold hand and parting it from her. Her wide brown eyes collided with startled hazel ones…. The emotion of surprise followed suit by sadness… and resignation. Eleanor stood up, and distance was made between them again; the silence accentuated and Eleanor mentally cursed, wondering why everytime she had an interaction with this man she ended up feeling utterly rude.

“Caleb….” She started, but her phrase was cut off abruptly when a rattle and a bang on the door could be heard. They both turned around and Caleb ran first to the door, Eleanor followed close and noticed that the sound didn’t come from one of the cells but from the front door. She paled when her name could be heard over the bulletproof glass.

“What the hell…” it wasn’t so often that you could hear the Indian doctor curse out loud, Eleanor imagined… she has never heard him before. He walked over to the door and Eleanor reacted, sprinting next to him; Caleb was the one to open the door first.

 

“Tyreese…”

“You promised” his voice came out as a feral growl, and soon both Eleanor and Caleb knew this had nothing to do with a sudden emergency. Eleanor turned around and noticed that some heads were already pocking from their respective cells.

“Caleb why don’t you take care of the people while I see what happened” she suggested in a calm demeanor; Caleb was about to answer back, but the young woman wouldn’t let him even try, as she walked outside and barred up the door again. She gave a last reassuring smile at the young doctor while the black man behind her burned his gaze on the back of her head. Without giving second looks, she started walking.... and kept going until she reached the common yard, only then she stopped and sighed. “Okay… tell me what happ-“

“Don’t play fucking dumb with me?!”

She gasped at the sudden yank she felt on her arm, she looked up to meet an enraged man that forcefully grabbed her by the shoulders. She flinched in pain, but tried to remain calm nonetheless; she knew that not only something truly awful happened, but also that the black man was barely holding back his anger. She tried to make a sense of all of that, then it dawned on her...

 

Karen.

 

Her confusion turned into complete panic and she shocked her head in denial; nothing made sense, she didn’t come to Block A… she was doing alright… Carol told her she was doing alright.

“You promised me you'll ever leave her alone! You said you would take care of her!” she focused her attention on Tyreese again. The rage of the man was a mix of regret and sadness, and Eleanor didn’t feel scared anymore…. Only a strong sentiment of guilt and pain remained.

"Tyreese...."

“Eleanor!”

 

She turned, Rick… Daryl and Carol were coming their way. When the former police officer turned to Tyreese he raised his hand in a calming manner, he was as anxious as the other two… Elle remembered he still had her by the shoulders, and maybe this was going to be completely misunderstood. She wanted to stop them, but there was not enough time. Daryl sprinted forward, not taking any second guesses and shoved his way between Eleanor and Tyreese, pulling the woman away and getting in front of her.

“Daryl” she protested.

“Tyreese… you, you need to calm down” it was Rick who spoke.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! don’t tell me to calm down!?” he screamed and paced around.

“Daryl, what happened to Karen?” Eleanor put a hand on the man’s shoulder and whispered her question.  This one side looked at her with a troubled expression.

"Man I know what you're going through... I know, I've been there" Rick tried to approach him again "Just try to remain calm... I'll... I'll find out what happened"

"What happened?... I know what happened!" Tyreese had now all his attention on the former officer. Eleanor tried to look past Daryl's shoulder and catch the conversation.... catch some information, still confused and clueless about what was happening. "Karen was murdered! someone killed her!... dragged her body and burnt her! I don't need to know what happened! I need for the person who did this to pay for it!?"

Eleanor felt her blood run out of her whole body. Her attention was scattered, she reviewed the information in her mind over and over again; it just couldn't be right. Sudden movement pulled her to reality and she didn't notice she missed part of the conversation, next thing she knew, she was being pulled by Carol. She frowned confused, about to ask why she was pulling her away when she heard screaming. She turned around and what she saw truly upset her. At one point, Tyreese and Daryl started to fight. Rick tried to intervene as well and got punched; something triggered in the old sheriff, and he rushed to tackle Tyreese to the ground... then he started punching him, one time after another.

Eleanor pulled herself away from Carol's arms, she ran back to where the commotion was just as Daryl tried to grab a hold of Rick who started struggling; taking the chance she kneeled over Tyreese and held her hand before her in a calming and defensive position. Rick managed to scape Daryl and raised his fist again but recognizing who it was he stopped mid-air. Daryl dragged him away; scared Eleanor turned to look at the black man, who lied on the ground.... hurt, bleeding and crying of pure pain and melancholy.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 ~***~

 

_Carl considered her for a moment before he decided to start his questions._

_"Is it true... Did Patrick die and turned? Was it because he was sick?"_

_Eleanor raised an eyebrow, expecting any other question. She feared Carl would ask about the more gruesome details, or if any other was injured... or how little have they advanced in knowing what they were dealing with... the answer, he already knew. But maybe, Eleanor thought, he didn't trust the words the other adults said; maybe a lie to calm everyone else... she could relate to that mistrust... she could also imagine him building up to the delicate questions later on._

_"Its true Patrick died and turned, we are not sure if he started the walker rampage though... there were, a couple more that died from the same disease" she could feel his gaze on her, and she decided to meet her. "We know it wasn't an outbreak, we know it was because they were sick...."_

_"But you don't know what it is? Andrea said it was some kind of flu.... is it?"_

_"We don't know what kind of sickness is" she half smirked defeated, indeed... her little friend was way smarter than others his age. "We assumed it was a flu.... because of the symptoms he had"_

 

 _Carl digested the answer, he nodded in understanding and then frowned concerned. Eleanor couldn't help but form an amused half-smirk._ _"People say is tuberculosis... I thought big diseases like those took... longer; I saw Patrick yesterday morning, he did look like he had the flu.... but it wasn't that bad"_

_"We are confused too... It could be something completely new, it could be something old that just ... changed" she struggled and her distressed frown showed again. Carl remained silent for another moment until he tempted again._

 

 

_"What will happen to the people that have been exposed?"_

 

 ~***~

 

 

“We can’t leave them outside-“

“You heard Rick AND Eleanor, we can’t let them inside Block C and risk spreading infection”

“They refuse to go to Block D even if it has been cleaned, we’ll be short on rations by the end of the week and there are no available people for the runs…. Daryl, Oscar, and Glenn were the only ones dragging bodies and digging graves… they are exhausted and they deserve to get inside their beds… their beds, Andrea. For all, we know we could also be infected!”

The blond woman urged the brunette to control the tone of her voice with a harsh shush. Carl wondered if it was at all necessary. There was hardly a soul that would be hearing their conversation… of course, apart from him.

“Keep it down, we managed to keep things from getting worse” Andrea elaborated, but Maggie was just about to retort again “ I know it doesn’t look that much of an improvement, but we can’t rush things like this… we’ll need to comply and adapt until we find a real solution”

“Have you got any word from her yet? Have they found out what it is?” At Maggie's question, Carl stopped cleaning his gun, and slightly turned his head, pressing it against the concrete wall; he shifted, making sure his frame could be carefully hidden by the entrance of his cell-room.

 

It took a while for Andrea to answer. Not being able to see if she was hesitating or making sure no one was near; he waited… and his patience was rewarded.

“She hasn’t gotten in touch with anyone besides Caleb… not since the early morning”

“This morning? Was she here? On block C?” the voice of Maggie sounded quite incredulous. Carl was also confused; and a little upset… maybe they were both upset but for different reasons.

“She didn’t enter… if that’s what you are implying” Andrea defended, and Carl lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “She contacted Hershel and me, she wanted to translocate some things into Block A…. the microscope, some books and a box with chemicals. Also one of the generators”

The silence trained again, but the sigh that scaped one of the women sounded more like relief…. A relief he felt; she was trying to find out what it was, and maybe she had the tools to do so, there was hope.

“She hasn’t contacted us since then…. But there could be hope she comes to the council meeting tomorrow… until then, the restriction remains” Andrea concluded, “Look, I know it’s hard…. I’m also not allowed to sleep here anymore! But instead of having to burn and disinfect one place after another, it’s best if we keep separated”

 

From that point on, the conversation shifted to the different supplies they were going to need in the next few days. Eleanor also ravaged the medical supply, counting that and the energy she would be consumed with the medical machines she took; they would have to make at least two runs by the end of the week.

Carl assembled his gun, satisfied with the fact that six months didn’t make him forget how it was done at all. He gazed down at it and sighed; thinking life was more or less like a bully. Even if he was bored to death and over the edge sometimes, he hadn’t missed his gun that much, now that he had it in his hands…. He recognized the heavy feeling of danger, insecurity, and that disturbing source of power he tried to avoid. Life was a bully... because the only times he shot someone were times he absolutely had to; and having it with him again only reassured that fact… that’s he’ll have to shot someone again, maybe… he’ll have to kill someone he knows again.

 

“Have you seen Beth?”

“She’s upstairs… with Judith” not bothering to move, he limited himself to gaze at the shadow that lured beside him… in the corridor. Maggie took a few more steps and gazed down. Carl felt her annoyment, it wasn’t his fault that they happened to be talking beside his cell. He checked the scope of his gun waiting for her to continue, when she didn’t he turned to her. “She’s the only one who can safely approach her now”

“You were exposed?” she asked with a little hint of alarm

“You saw me hug my dad…. I’m supposed to be exposed” he put his gun aside and stood up, patting his pants “You need people on the rations today?” he offered, and Maggie snorted, giving a defeated little smile.

“Bob is watching that now… he could use an extra hand; I’ll check the fences” Carl nodded and before he  could turn and walk away, Maggie stopped him “You won’t talk about what you heard right?”

“I won't” he conceded a smile, Maggie let out a relieved sigh and a nod and Carl took his queue to leave.

 

The passing hours were torture, the infamous council meeting that should have happened that afternoon was delayed until tomorrow morning; no one knew exactly why… at least, Carl didn’t, and some people were already giving-up to panic. He frowned when he noticed he had arrived at one of the supplies room… and began to work.

When has been the last time he did something like this... he remembered. They just arrived at the prison, and his father found the prisoners and traded with them for the large amount supplies they had…. Hershel had been bitten, his leg was cut off. His mother…

He tried to think of something else. Ranging the different supplies, he noticed they didn’t really take bottled water anymore; something like that was only used in emergencies, and people were already used to filter or boil the water they pumped from the canal. He looked at the bottles and wondered if Eleanor would ask for them later... What if the thing that caused the disease was actually in the water? Food was going scarce too; he wasn't aware of a big move of supplies lately, not to death row.... not from block D, and he wondered what the sick people were eating… that thought lead him directly to Eleanor, and he couldn’t help but worry; knowing her, she might have eaten nothing since the whole thing started.

He sighed, and looked around him... he was going to finish way earlier than he expected; Where was Bob anyway? 

Carl walked out of the storage room and gazed at the hallway that sent him to the infirmary. He opened and closed his fist, his fingers reaching for the corner of his shirt... a childish fiddle that he did when he knew he was about to do something he really shouldn't. Taking one step at a time, he approached the open door that led him to the infirmary. His eyes focused on the shadows that moved behind it... a little voice in his head constantly telling him to turn around and leave before he was discovered, and still ignoring it completely. 

 

_They just didn't know what it was_

 

The did his best to open the door further without making it creak; his light-blue eyes traveled the bright space looking for the source of the shadows he saw, and gave out a relieved sigh when he realized they were from the plastic curtains that moved with the wind coming from the window. He entered.... but the silence and peace of the small room unsettled him, Bob wasn't here. In the back of his mind, he had imagined that all this time Bob had been taking care of the injured and bitten on his own... and that it had been quite a lot that needed treatment. Looking the place deserted like this was not what he was expecting, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. He looked to the sides and wondered what those plastic curtains were hiding. Preparing himself to be recognized and get in trouble, he walked to the corner of one of the curtains and peeked inside. 

Empty, he knitted his eyebrows together in confusion; at first, he couldn't understand why would Bob leave the curtains closed as if occupied when there was no one inside; then... then he noticed. A large red stain covered the small pillow on the bed, his tentative hand reached over to move the yellowish blanket only to discover more, smaller stains; however, none of them were as large as the one he saw first on the pillow. He let go of the blanket and closed the curtain again.... as if the piece of opaque plastic were a wall that concealed his disturbed expression for him. 

How many died in reality? Andrea talked about casualties,  How many of them were bitten and how many were sick? Did anyone who was bitten scaped turning at all? 

A raspy sound scared him back to reality and he jumped away from the curtain; he swayed and he took some steps backward to keep standing. Panting, his widened eyes searched for the source of the noise and an old woman he couldn't recognize looked back at him with the same surprised stare. He swallowed some saliva and tried to breathe slowly to calm himself down,  but his brain wouldn't let him.... his mind ordered him over and over to turn around and leave, run away.... if he had the chance.

 

_The restriction remains_

 

The woman tried to hide her handkerchief in a haste. Her hunched position meant weakness..... her sweaty and pale face meant fever, her wide-eyes were filled with fear. He has never seen her on block C, How did she even manage to get inside? She stood right there in the middle of the room, the closest to the door... and Carl tensed, not being able to move a muscle. 

"Doctor Stookey isn't here? I... I just wanted-"

"No he's not here" Carl frowned uncertain "You could search for Dr. S instead"

Carl scolded himself for being too forward. He knew the instant the woman understood what he meant; she tried to approach him with an upset and nervous face, shocking her head in denial.

"B-but I just... had a headache you know" she tried to smile and Carl found the result more unsettling " I-I'm not sick, please... you have to know... I'm fine" She stretched her hand and Carl walked around her, trying to keep his distance; studying his movements the woman became more desperate and launched forward. Carl flinched and before he could carefully think about it... he evaded her and she fell to her knees. 

"Ah... Sorry..." he stopped moving, and before he could bring himself to help her stand, a hand tugged his shirt with force... or rather, her weight was too much for him to stay upright.

"I am not sick!" he yanked himself free, losing balance and hitting the wall with his back. Just as he did, her couching started again. He covered his mouth with the collar of his shirt... be it the exertion, be it something else... carl just wasn't sure; but the coughs wouldn't stop. 

Trapped against the wall, his free hand reached for the gun's holster. The commotion alerted Bob, that appeared alongside Tyreese.

Carl was momentarily distracted by the appearance of the larger man, his face beaten up... badly. This one in exchange limited himself to reproving glare at the teenage boy before bending over to pick up the convalescent woman; then, as if burnt, he retracted. Carl looked down and his eyes focused on red drops that now painted the grey concrete. The woman collapsed to the ground and Bob sprinted forward to help her, equipped with a grey apron... gloves and a face mask, he turned her over only to grimace disturbed... just like the other two present. Her mouth and nose covered in blood... she was no longer moving.... or breathing. 

"Tyreese...." to the sound of Bob's voice, both men and boy jumped "Alert Andrea and Maggie... now" it took only some moments for the black man to comply and walk away. Once alone, he glanced at the teenager concerned "What happened?"

"She was looking for you, she said she had a headache... and that she was not sick, then you came" Carl deliberately limited the details and a sudden unease crept its way to the back of his neck. 

"Did...." he hesitated, and only after a moment... continued "Did you touch her... in any way?"

 

"No." Bob nodded and Carl stood up; not bothering to look behind, he walked straight to his cell, snatching his clue hoodie. He then walked to Eleanor's cell pulled out her first-aid box.... got a lighter and a small bottle of alcohol. concealed in the shadows, he wasn't noticed by the running figures of Andrea and Maggie... knowing their destination, he took the opposite. His heartbeat so strong he could hear it, his unrelenting pace making their toll on his legs, his focused gaze guiding him through the corridors that took him to a silent corner of the courtyard. 

Not giving himself any relief, he contained the need of his lungs for more air and pulled himself out of his shirt and t-shirt in one move, forming a ball and throwing it in a metal bin, pouring the alcohol and throwing the lighter inside. 

He opened his mouth then, and panted and wheezed in obvious need of air... space. He stepped back and clumsily got inside his hoodie. His arms trembled; becoming frustrated he tugged on the sleeves with more force, making him step back... and search for support on a wall. He clenched his jaw and refused to look away from the fire... the smoke, the irritating smell of burned clothes. His hands still trembled and he slid down against the wall exhausted..... finally closing his eyes he let his head rest on the wall. No matter how much he tried, his heart would not settle..... he was terrified.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

~***~

 

_"Is it that contagious... that everyone that has been exposed can get sick"_

_Eleanor wide-eyed; there it was, the questions she tried to avoid... even when she was by herself. She sighed stressed and resigned, stretching her legs, rotating them from left to right._

_"Here's the thing" she began and she could tell Carl was even more alert "It was my decision to say it was infectious, dangerous. I'm not... I mean, I wasn't certain of how contagious it was, so I decided not to take any chances.... and isolate you" she looked worried at him "You and Judith, from all of this ... even Caleb thought I was going too far with the quarantine in Block A but..."_

_"But"_

_"The people that were in Block D, one by one.... they are falling sick" she hugged her legs again, and silence trained again._

 

_Carl did understand, why she kept her distance from all of them, why she gave so cutting and unbending orders.... it was only necessary. He could protest all he wanted, but in the end.... she will be right,  and he would follow._

 

_"Why didn't you burn all the bodies then? ...instead of burying them." Carl frowned to the front, then looked at her "you shouldn't take the chance with that either"_

 

_Eleanor snorted, kind of an odd response for such a gloomy question. The questions were gradually stepping up on tone, she knew, but it wasn't only that fact that amused her, but the fact she almost forgot she was beside her little friend.... her brilliant best friend. She smiled..._

_"True, it seems logic and safe to burn them all.... but not a good move; not with so many people looking at you" Carl frowned and she looked down "There are certain things that are ought to do, but can't be done without condemning yourself to the hatred of others later... in the end, avoiding panic is just as crucial and safe"_

 

_A cloud wandered over the brilliant moon... they were both enveloped in pure darkness. Carl looked at the front and barely recognized his surroundings; he had never been afraid of darkness, not even when he was younger.... but he still hated it. He hated the feeling of solitude that came with it, the sensation he was both lost and alone. He closed his eyes, and smirked in sudden realisation; since the outbreak, he has spent more time in the dark of night than the light of day.... he learned that darkness is harmless; if anything, it separated you from the world, and helped you only see inside yourself.... what you feared, what you wanted, what you wished for._

 

_Before the cloud could go away completely, he felt movement beside him. He turned his head and in between the dark he could make out the silhouette of Eleanor standing up. noticed Eleanor was standing up. He sighed resigned and did the same. It was not enough, not even close. He still had questions that needed an answer, but as he hurried himself to think of the most important ones.... they all disappeared and made way to only one._

 

_"I have to return soon... Caleb's shift must have finished by now, he could be looking for me"_

_"When will you come back?"_

_Eleanor wide-eyed; her heart clenched.  She couldn't bring herself to answer, to lie... to hide; not at the face before her, not at the open emotion, those light blue eyes showed suddenly... not when that emotion made her remember with heartbreaking clarity that despite everything, the little boy she met in Atlanta was still there._

_"I don't know.... but I hope it will be soon..."_

_~***~_

 

 

 

"Hershel... I'm certain, I've seen it"

The old man looked down at the number of papers, notes and overall information that the younger woman had accumulated in the space of 24 hours. When she called for an emergency meeting that late afternoon, he could have never imagined she would have this much to tell them; if anything, it reassured him.

“GAS?” asked Andrea uncertain

“A bacterial infection caused by Group A Streptococcus…” Hershel elaborated for her, and then turned to Eleanor “How did you get this information?”

“I acquired a sputum sample this morning that confirmed it. I have tried to make Gram stains with blood samples before but was contaminated; I’ve been looking at the symptoms and overall outcomes and they fit”

“The incubation time doesn’t add up… What has Caleb said about it?” Hershel asked again. But before Eleanor could answer, Daryl stepped in.

“Why are we still discussing what it is, if Eleanor says it’s bacterial then it is….. that means we can get the meds tomorrow” Pragmatic as always, he cut the running in circles, and Eleanor cleared her throat.

“Hershel has a good point though; usually an infection like this takes a week to form. We both are suspecting that the ‘walker’ infection might have something to do with it” she said pulling a small list of names, that was beside different times and dates “The evolution of the disease is never the same, depending on the age and condition of the patient  it can get worse or be less severe… we have no way to prove this, but what it can tell us is that the normal antibiotics won’t help… we need wide-spectrum, IV antibiotics” she frowned concerned “We need to stop the infection as fast as possible, and control the symptoms as best as we can…. The key, is preventing pleurisy”

“the pleurisy aspiration?  You mean… the blood coughing?” from a corner in a safe distance, Michonne asked…. and Eleanor nodded.

“once the person starts having coughing fits, it means the pressure on the lungs and trachea make it impossible for them to properly breathe…. Once it starts to happen, the damage worsens, it's irreversible…. They die in minutes; we have tried assisted respiration but it only buys us time” she frowned concerned and glanced at the former officer to her left. A silent statue that looked at her and the papers presented for everyone to see. She sighed “I’ve got no idea where to search for all of this… any hospital must be flooding with walkers now, and the pharmacies nearby won’t have this sort of thing”

“What about P-Tech?” Hershel suggested and Eleanor frowned

“P-Tech?”

“The veterinary college at West Peachtree Tech… that’s one place people may not have thought to wait for medication. And they might have the research class antibiotics… those could help”

“That’s 50 miles… too big a risk before, but it ain’t now” said Daryl getting up “I’ll form a group now… best not waste time”

“If you go now you won’t be able to make it by night… that’s too much of a risk” Eleanor protested “what if you left before dawn tomorrow… and concentrate on the plan today”

Daryl considered her suggestion and ended up nodding in acceptance and Eleanor nodded back in appreciation, time was running short, but as night approached again, it was still safer to try this out in the morning.

“Any of you coming’?”

“I’m in” Michonne stepped in.

“You haven’t been exposed, Daryl has… being in a car-”

“He has already given me flies” she joked and Hershel smirked. But before they could call it a day, Eleanor started again.

“There something else that is also important to do…” she called for their attention “be it a transformed or enhanced form of GAS…. It’s still GAS, and it’s an infection that affects predominantly children and elderly; we can’t put them at risk anymore….. I was thinking of move them to a safer place… like the administrative Block”

“Complete isolation?” Hershel was fast to protest, being the case that the restriction included him. “Block C has proven to be a safe place—“

“Not anymore…” Carol said concerned, Eleanor’s attention turned to her “Andrea was alerted by… by Tyreese at noon” Eleanor frowned distressed “An old woman from Block D walking into Block C’s infirmary searching for Bob…. She collapsed in a coughing fit; it wasn’t even seconds before she died”

An uncomfortable silence reigned in the room; Eleanor remained uncertain feeling that there was something they were avoiding to say. She looked at Rick who met her gaze… only to look somewhere else after. Eleanor decided to let it go.

“They’ll be moved tonight” she ended and guarded her notes and papers.

 

The meeting ended, and some people were already forming groups to work. Hershel walked by Daryl and Michonne to make them a map to the University, and Carol walked away with Andrea…. Oscar, who came in name of Glenn, excused himself. And that left Eleanor and Rick in an uncomfortable silence that the younger woman felt much obliged to break.

“How’s your hand doing?” The former sheriff moved his head from side to side with a discontented grimace. Eleanor gave him an understanding smile “Well… what is done is done isn’t it?”

“He had a point… I suppose that’s what angered me the most” he admitted looking at the table. Sitting again Eleanor reached her hand and put it over his bandaged hand. He looked at it, and then at her.

“If guilt could be able to take us somewhere, then we would have come a long way with it… and yet, it’s quite the opposite…. Positively useless”

“Funny to hear this from you… next time, tell me that with an actual smile and I might believe it”

She gave him a little smile, one that the older man answered with a tired smirk. He sighed, and with his other hand he rubbed his face, Eleanor frowned in all seriousness and determination.

“Who found the woman in the infirmary… was it Bob?.... It wasn’t Bob, was it?”

“Carl found her…” he whispered and his voice sounded distant and frightened, a feeling that Eleanor shared.

“Did she touch him?”

“Bob asked him the same” Rick explained while looking at space, vivid concern plastered on his face, a concern that…. To Eleanor's humble opinion, she hadn’t seen since their time at Hershel’s farm. “He said she didn’t…. and still, he saw all of it” His stormy blue eyes landed on her and Eleanor felt a knot in her stomach “My 13-year-old son saw a woman die in a puddle of her own blood, all while we…” he lifted his bandaged hand, looking at it in hate, then crashing it against the table. He flinched and before he could do the same thing again, Eleanor returned the hurt fist into her hands.

“All the while we tried to understand what happened to Karen and David…. Who were murdered; trying to disregard the pain and anguish of a friend… and friend who just lost everything” her voice wanted to brake… and became a whisper… just like his.

Rick looked again at the offending bandage now protected by Eleanor’s hands. He glared at it in hate, certainly thinking it didn’t deserve the gentleness offered. The young woman sighed. “Come on…. Come with me”

 

At first, she had to drag him…. But eventually, he followed. They made it out of the library and Block D, and soon… into Block A. The darkness enclosed the hallways that for Rick would have been completely unknown, but that Eleanor already knew by heart. Rick knew they reached their destination, as the orange rays of sunset bathed the glass entrance of the death row. He went stiff with anticipation and when Eleanor let go he frowned confused.

“Wait for me here,” she said and opened the heavy door with a lough clack. The Glass proof door reflected the light that blinded him for a moment, and he could see properly only when the door was closed again.

He looked around him, and noticed a partition with another window; one that had some kind of point pattern and he could recognize his function. His vision moved the small room… a table, a chair; and only when he looked closely, he could make a wheeled bed; hidden in the dark corner, over it a blanket that covered the silhouette of a body. With a certain feeling of unease, he retracted to his previous position; not being able to shake the unwanted feeling, he was startled when the door opened again.

The young woman grabbed his hand with no preamble at all and in his extended hand she passed a small Ziploc. After inspection, Rick noticed at least four different pills… along with a folded piece of paper.

“Listen to me closely” she instructed and pointed to the bag “what I’m going to tell you are also written on that paper…. The white ones are to be taken one every 8 hours, the pink one is for the fever”.

“Why are you—“

“At the first sign of tiredness… fever or anything, give them to Carl” he wide-eyed and Eleanor continued whispering “I refuse to believe he is out of danger, and until the antibiotics are in our hands I won’t take any chances; please take them.”

The silence was broken only by the muffled coughs of the people behind the sturdy door. Completely ignorant of the situation unfolding at the other side, of the sincere stare both Eleanor and Rick shared for a moment. Just as those counted times she had seen it, the former sheriff unsuccessfully tried to hide the overwhelming emotion in his eyes. He shocked his head in denial, still…. His good hand clutched the small bag with force.  His bandaged hand did what the other couldn’t, and reached the young woman’s face. This one trapped it in between her hands again, and she gave him a little smile.

“I’ll come by tomorrow morning” he informed and she nodded. He nodded in answer with that awkward mannerism of his; stepping back. He walked away.

 

The clang of a distant metal door told Eleanor when he was gone for good. Only then, she turned to open the door of the death row. She closed it, and walked to her right, was her coat… gloves and handkerchief hanged. Finally changed, she walked around to notice most people were already trying to rest…. The last rays of sunlight abandoned fast and she activated the generator that kept the central lights on. Walking to the table in the middle. She poured a cup with hot tea and walked to the last cell on the right. Once inside, she sat on the bed… beside the resting form on a young man. The hazel of his eyes was still focused on her dark brown of her own…. despite the fever that did nothing but go up since that afternoon… just before she was going to the council meeting.

“I’ll conclude there are no more antibiotics left…. Then” he commented, taking a sip of his hot tea. She gazed at him… her expression still as the air.

The Indian Doctor grabbed a little cloth to cover a little cough, dry… an early start. He put it aside with a defeated gesture and looked up; his annoyed expression suddenly turned in a surprised adoration…. Then in pure sadness. His tentative hand reached over to caress the cloth-covered cheek, his thumb caressed it, forming little circles over it. “Who would say you were this emotional… this is not something to cry for, It’ll be alright”

 

And yet,  like a stream, the tears fell. She put her hand over his and let him reassure her of his wellbeing, until the fever and exhaustion forced him to rest.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. This took me a while... :( I took pseudo-vacations for a whole two months, I'm really sorry for that (vacation meaning too much work and study to even try to find some sense and time for this) but all things come in waves and I've finally got a couple of days for myself. So I'll try to make it worth it and finish this in one go. One thing is for certain, I'm not letting it hanging, I'll finish it. 
> 
> Again, thank you for the patience you have with me and most thank you for your interest in this work of mine. 
> 
> Enjoy ;)


	5. The road to Death row

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finding out the flu was a bacterial infection, Eleannor and Daryl mobilised to organise a dangerous run for hospital-degree antibiotics at the veterinarian College in P-Tech. Children and elderly are the most ar risk; and after the sudden death of a sick woman in Block C, they were ordered to rest in the administrative block for complete isolation. 
> 
> It is now a race against time.

 

 

The refreshing breeze that entered through the open window made Carl sigh in relief. He crossed his arms over the frame and rested his head on them... the position he was in was far from comfortable, but he didn't show it on his face. In fact, there was little he could do with his expression... he was still uncertain of what he was feeling at the moment.

The previous night, he had been struggling to sleep. So, when his father came looking for him he was wide awake... and when he told Carl that he and the other children had to be moved to the administrative block, his head was active enough to understand the whole implication of that fact. It had been some hours from that and Carl hadn't been able to settle or rest for a single minute. A worried sigh escaped his mouth, his gaze rested on the clearing sky, and his hand gripped tight the little bag that his father gave him before leaving again.

 

He had read the instructions with no real concentration; if he were to be honest with himself, he only wanted to trace Eleanor's calligraphy in his mind over and over again. This was from her... that only meant she knew what had happened that afternoon; this was her way to show her worry and to disapprove of his actions. His father did close to nothing when he knew, he had been scolded with more severity in the past. He concluded his father knew that the shame he felt was enough; it ate him from the inside... he had been stupid.

His eyes tried to travel over the roofs of the different blocks and between the darkness that still lingered in the early dawn, he tried to identify Block A and Block C. He wondered if Eleanor was also awake... if she had slept at all, if she had eaten.... if she was working alone, if she had the help she needed. He also felt afraid. The number of sick people did nothing but grow, and Eleanor was surrounded by all that... What if she ended up sick out of constant exposure? He certainly didn't know how those kinds of things worked, but some dark corner of his mind was warning him that she was risking herself more than she let others notice.

Wanting to occupy himself with something, he began cleaning the room he was in. The administrative block was called like that for a good reason, and all that he could see around were dusty sofas, chairs and loads of useless paper... There was no use for this place, and after settling in, they paid this place no mind.

 

> _I need you to stay here and look out for your sister and Beth. If you notice any of the people with you are infected you either lock them or send them to Block A... You'll only fire if it's absolutely necessary._

 

It was true, people might die under his care too. He had little to no objections against being isolated from everything else. It all made sense, Elle found out what the sickness was... how to cure it and who were more at risk. There was a reason for them to be there, and Carl had no option but to accept what was pure logic. Still, there was the uneasiness.... the restlessness that came with the premonition of something bad. Something uncomfortable creeping up his spine that he couldn’t get rid of. Already having some progress, he cleaned with more enthusiasm; until his hand picked up something.... a ball of paper. He turned it on his hand.... and his expressionless face contorted against his will. His emotions rose to the surface and his eyebrows knitted together. His light blue eyes filled with anger, frustration, and pain.

The small projectile hit the wall on the other side, it bumped and fell to the pile of more paper. Carl glared at the ground, and now he could easily spot the rest of them. The blood in his veins boiled. As if possessed, he grasped one ball after the other, throwing them against the wall in front of him as hard as his rage allowed him to. The crumbled paper bounced to the corners, soon, they were all hidden from his sight…. That’s when he finally stopped.

 

Panting, he fell to his knees. All force left his body, leaving a bitter taste on the back of his mouth and an odd sensation in his stomach. Since he arrived at that useless piece of concrete, since he met his father in the night… since he saw her walk away back to Block A, he had been feeling this knot in his throat. He was afraid and he was worried sick. It had been different before; even if he repeated to himself it hadn’t…. that was a lie. Every time Eleanor left, he had the hope that she returned, he imagined she would be alright or at least, his father would protect her one way or another… he would stay put only because no matter what he did he couldn’t help her. He would be too far away for that.... This was not the same. She was in danger, a danger that no one around her completely understood, therefore his father couldn’t protect her, nobody could. She wasn’t far away either... just some meters away, just between his grasp, just out of his reach. Sometimes he wished he could just sulk and disobey like he did before, but he couldn’t. He had been too close, he knew the danger was real.

But in the end, he only wanted one thing. This silence, this loneliness, this fear, helplessness…. He wanted it all to be over. In the end, he wished he cared about what happened to everyone else, but what he really wanted… the only thing that could make this feeling go away… would be to have her again by his side.

  

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

That early morning, Eleanor was going out of Block A to look for some water. When she opened the door and looked up, her tired expression changed into one of surprise, then to shame…. Then it all hid away, long before the person in front of her could notice it.

“Tyreese...” She greeted the man with a polite smile.  “Can I help you with something?” she scolded herself and fought the grimace that tried to show on her face. It was barely dawn and honestly, she wasn’t near ready to face any of this. The black man didn't flinch, glaring down at the woman. Taking a long breath, Eleanor stood her ground and waited. But Ellie has never been a woman of patience and not before long, her stance broke… and she leaned to the side, trying to look past the wall that Tyreese was. She huffed and crossed her arms.

“Fine, would you step aside, then? I have things to do” she offered, but he remained still like a statue. She started to get annoyed “Tyreese... Why are you here?”

"Somebody has to" The black man's sudden answer made her jump startled.

"Somebody—Why?"

"Someone has to stay and take watch" he elaborated with a sneer. Elle considered the man before her carefully. Her eyes studied the beaten up face of her friend and her mild annoyment was soon replaced by guilt. She took another breath.

“Watch?... Tyreese, the people in here are sick, most of them cannot stand without help… I doubt they will go anywhere” she commented disregarding his menacing tone, but when she stepped forward to leave he didn’t budge.

“It’s not them I’m suspicious of” he spat with venom in his voice. Elle frowned… but ignored the comment nonetheless.

 “Move… I need to get out”.

“What for? Whatever you _need_ to do should be the other way around” he answered with the same spite. Already at the last of her string, she shoved the black man out of her way. Tyreese was taken back by the sudden movement, and stepped backward… there was now enough space in front of Eleanor to step forward and past the door and lock it behind her. Once she turned, her annoyed glare met its match to one just as stubborn.

“Let’s get something straight” she pointed out with a hinted menace. Sensing the atmosphere, the larger man straightened his chest to reach his full height and appear more intimidating… but if there was one thing that Eleanor disregarded when fueled with anger, it had to be the size of her foes. “It’s true… what happened with Karen was a tragedy… an injustice. And I’m truly sorry. You have all the right to be in anger and pain. You have all the right to search for the people who did this… but now… now is not a good time, we need to concentrate our forces to take care of the more pressing problem—“

“More pressing problem?…” he repeated in hurt disbelieve “Sure, there are some…. Priorities, and what I get from you is that murder is now accepted in this place”

“It’s not! You are speaking out of pain and rage. You are a good leader like us, and I know it is hard and cruel for me to ask you to let it go… but there are people dying Tyreese. And they’ll keep on dying if we don’t do something about it; they need us--”

“Yeah... I doubt you'll be able to help them when you couldn't even-” But his lips trembled, suddenly unable to finish his phrase. Eleanor felt that he didn't need to.... she knew where it ended. "you are not getting out of my sight" he repeated stubbornly. Eleanor flinched… she saw the moment that fragility hid again under that stern frown and it affected her more than anything else.

“Fine!” she answered back “You can think is my fault! You can think I’m the killer!.... Fine!... I’m too busy to care!” she tried to push him aside again but this time the black man was prepared and he didn't even sway. Frustrated with him and herself Eleanor tried to squeeze herself against the corner of the door. "Do whatever you need to do... I'll do what's right"

It was a downright provocation. The hard cold stare of him confirmed that Eleanor had gone too far. And before she could have the chance to walk away, a rasping sound echoed in the empty space. Both she and Tyreese turned in an over-stimulated stance. The large man stepped aside, his anger was washed away and replaced by concern... and fear.

From the other side, Sasha looked at them with glassy eyes. She panted, and her sweaty skin shone in the dim light. She hugged the wall in an attempt to keep standing. She coughed again, and the raspy voice made Eleanor's neck hairs to stand. The first one to move was obviously Tyreese, alarmed by the weakened state of his sister; however, this one lifted her hand in a silent stop signal. Tyreese froze in place when Sasha glared at him through her feverish stare.... the order made itself evident. That's when Eleanor stepped forward and took charge. Covering her face in a haste, she ran forward and laced her arm around Sasha's waist... she then put the woman's arm around her shoulders, and Sasha let the air escape her lungs in relief. She didn't think twice about resting their weight on Eleanor, and this one was glad for it.

"There are more coming" Sasha whispered in her ear... and Elle turned to her with wide eyes.

”What?"

"From Block D... and C" she breathed in and couched again. The silence that followed her words was one of the worst kind. Tyreese watched the two women walk past him; a combination of confusion and cluelessness that Eleanor almost pitied..... almost

"Let me get you comfortable and then, I'll go get them" she commented in a reassuring tone. The half-lidded eyes of the black woman gazed at her while Eleanor unlocked and opened door to let her inside.

"Where... where is doctor S?" she asked and soon found herself breathless, Elle let her sit on the bed of an empty cell.

"He's taking a break" she meekly smiled under her handkerchief and stood up "Lay down, I'll bring you hot water in just a moment"

Sasha looked at Eleanor for a moment and smiled… too. Laying down she shifted her body to rest on the side and closed her eyes. When Ellie was spared of the strong gaze of the woman, she allowed the air escape her lungs... her eyes revealing the worry and exertion.

"You are not supposed to enter here... you want to fall ill too?" She turned, and at some steps of the door stood Tyreese. It was not like he hadn't been exposed before; Eleanor's true reason for her statement was the look he was giving to her... to Sasha.... and the other sick people. His anger seemed momentarily forgotten, he looked lost and anxious. Stepping to him, she took the liberty to take his arm and pull him back to the exit. They didn't fight this time around or say anything at all. Eleanor took the hint and walked away, and only when she reached the courtyard, she noticed he was following her.

 

 

The young woman bent down and started pumping water on a container. She looked at Tyreese by the corner of her eye. She resisted the urge to snap another comment to him and looked around the courtyard instead.

"She'll be alright" Eleanor stood up and stretched, rubbing her sore lower back. "The fever has just started... and her coughing is mild"

Tyreese didn't answer, and Eleanor took the large plastic container with much effort to a wheeled cart. From there, she tugged it to Block D's direction. After what it felt like too much of a silence, Tyreese spoke.

"Why not use the bottled water?" Eleanor smirked to herself.

"Who says I don't, I usually have this water filtered to clean the cups and the other utensils, sometimes even boil the..." she bit her tongue, avoiding the description of a certain red fluid she was especially careful with"... handkerchiefs for good measure". After that question, Tyreese said no more. He kept on his pursue, however, and they reached Block D together when the sky started to lighten.

 

Eleanor spotted the people Sasha was talking about... her true emotions rose to the surface and she wished they didn't.

Walking in their direction were a group of at least five people. They walked at a slow pace, the stronger people were helping the ones that had a harder time trying to move... the stage of the disease was different in all of them. Eleanor's heart broke at the sight of a teenager.... she could only wonder if the girl went to the administrative building at all, or decided from the beginning to stay behind.

"I was just about to get you" despite everything, Eleanor tried her best to keep a cheerful tone. The group looked up at her, reluctant eyes traveled past her and to Tyreese.

In worry, Eleanor stepped forward to them "Don't worry, I'll get some bottled water and we'll be ready to go"

"I'll go for the bottled water"

It was her turn to look puzzled and wary. Without any more explanation, Tyreese walked in direction of Block D. He left the woman and the group of sick people in a sea of awkwardness. Eleanor cleared her throat and started walking back to Block A herself.

 

 

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

Irony was a constant in his life… even after the outbreak.

 

He should know by now that what little luck he had was just a reminder that the moment he felt comfortable… there will be something to fuck it all up. He raised from the bed in one shaky move. He refused to try sitting upright in a rush only to fall back on the bed dizzy and exhausted; he already did that some hours ago, and his head almost exploded.

The roaring engine of the pickups at dawn woke him up and he knew Daryl was gone; he missed it… he wanted to go for the meds too. Maybe Daryl searched for him… but probably thought of someone else, since he knew he would prefer to stay with Maggie. Hell, he would have said yes to that any other day… but today he wanted to be as far as possible from his wife.

 

Cruel… Cruel Irony.

 

He let his elbows rest on his knees for support while he let out a shaky and wheezed breath. His head hung down, it hurt too much to even try to lift it. Still, he slowly gazed up and he noticed the first rays of sunlight already bathing the cell block. Did he fall asleep again? For how long?... before he could reach the clock on his nightstand, a jolt of pain surged from the mouth of his stomach, his ribs contracted involuntarily and he grasped his chest in pain. The raspy sound came out of his mouth and echoed around the walls of his cell. He tried to stop it but it was no use, he kept coughing. It felt as if saws were trying to rip his throat apart. As if some kind of spiked wire was squeezing his heart dry.

He panted and wanted to lay down once again. He had coughed two times… fucking twice, and he already wanted to die. He passed his hand over his forehead, he was covered in sweat. He looked around tiredly for a handkerchief… but only found a dirty shirt lying around. He used it instead… and clutched it tight against his mouth.

 

Suddenly Block A felt so far… far away.

 

He shouldn’t have stayed in bed… he should have searched for Eleanor yesterday night; when the fever was nothing but a mild warmness he voluntarily… and stupidly decided to ignore as fatigue. Now he was sure he would make a bloody show of himself… clawing his way around the courtyard, swaying in weakness and dizziness like a drunk man. He sighed, using the same shirt to clean up the sweat out of his face and neck; he was just too tired to think clearly. In his weakened state, he could barely register the steps and voice getting closer to his cell.

“…We’ll go out at noon then. Glenn do y—"

“Don’t!” He barked, though his abused throat made it sound more like a raspy whimper. At least it served its purpose… Maggie froze at the entrance of the cell.

“Glenn…” She started hesitantly. He didn’t need to lift his gaze to feel her terror. He wanted to reassure her that It wasn’t as bad as it looked, but clearly, life hadn’t had enough of him and chose that moment to send another wave of painful coughs to his lungs and up his throat. “Glenn I need to take you to—”

“I’ll go!… I’ll go” he said, lifting his arm as if to keep Maggie at bay.

“Then I’ll search for her to come to you” She offered much more determined. She ran away before he could stop her; and he had no strength to even curse at her stubbornness. Anyway… It couldn’t get any worse, could it?

“Glenn?... Do you want me to get you something? Water… maybe”

All to bloody hell. He sighed, and lifted his glazed eyes to look at Andrea… Looking apprehensively at him, keeping herself at a safer distance than Maggie. He shook his head and Andrea nodded… walking away. Glenn wished he could forget the pity she showed on her face. Glenn panted again, and in a last effort he tried to stand up using the nightstand as leverage.

 

Eleanor arrived when he finally was able to stay upright without leaning over something. She said nothing when she walked over to him, getting his arm around her shoulders… inviting him to let her carry him. Oh how much he wanted to do just that; but knowing she would barely take his weight he passed down the offer.

“He’ll be okay; I’ll take care of him the best I can and when you return from the run you can visit him and stay all you like”

“Yes… thank you” Maggie whispered, not moving from her previous spot. Glenn and Eleanor made their way to exit Block C at a slow pace. Glenn let his air out in relief when they reached the door, they crossed nobody in the hallway; the wind blow slowly and clouds started to appear on the sky.

“You should have looked for me yesterday… your stage is more advanced than I imagined” She whispered.

Good. He needed some harsh treatment right now.

“I know, dumb move” he commented.

“At least Daryl is going for the medicines today. If he wasn’t you’d be dead”

“I can’t go down that easy can I” he joked and tried to snicker, but his face contorted in pain and he gave little pants instead.

“Don’t laugh idiot” Said Eleanor more amused than angry. Yes… this was good. She would take care of him… He was going to be okay.

“Are we there yet?”

Eleanor snorted and shook her shoulders, desperately trying to contain any sign of mirth.

“Halfway through Speed Racer”

“I take offense to that” Eleanor sighed and Glenn felt that underneath that handkerchief she was smirking.

He was feeling more relaxed… but then, the coughing started again. The sudden movement made him lose balance and he tried to lean on Eleanor to keep on standing. She also noticed Glenn was about to fall and turned her body to hug him. Glenn sagged over her as his coughs left his body completely drained. He wide-eyed and tried to contain himself when he noticed he was no longer coughing on his dirty shirt… but on Eleanor’s shoulder. He panted and she grabbed his shoulders to stabilize him.

“It’s ok… It’s done, you’ll be okay” she tried to reassure him

“No… It’s not” he rasped in panic.  Eleanor looked down to her shoulder and wide-eyed in concern when she noticed the red specks that tainted her coat.

“Come on… we are almost there” She managed to say and they continued walking.

“My…. My shirt” Glenn panted

“Cough on the coat if you need to… we are not stopping to get it” she retorted, but then sighed and Glenn felt the hand that circled around his waist making small circles on his back “It’s ok… I’ll clean it later”.

Again, Glenn let out his breath in relief, he leaned his head on her shoulder as gratitude and Eleanor never stopped making the little circles on his back. At the last steps, he could no longer avoid the fatigue and sagged against his friend. She said nothing. The large metal door closed behind them and he gazed up to look around the hallways of Death Row.

“Where is Doctor S?”

The silence that followed only made him feel more anxious. His sight, already blurry, turned to Eleanor. He took in the little he could see of her face… she wide-eyed and looked at the end of the hallway with a frown that could only be interpreted as worry. He tried to follow her gaze but it was no use, the hallway was empty; whatever she was hoping to look at was something only she would know.

“Well… he’s, he’s” she said in a dismissive tone, but he could not be fooled. Apparently, he was not the only one to know something was off. From one of the cells and to his surprise, a bushy head appeared.

“If you… say…. He’s t-taking a rest…. Again” she growled through fatigued pants. Still, she looked better than he was. Maybe she was smart enough to come at the first sign of fever; that only showed him how stupid he was.

“Well… you should be resting instead of walking around, and I’m not going to say that again either” Elle answered back with some resentment. Indeed, Sasha wasn’t convinced, and not Glenn was part of the team. The other woman looked from Sasha to Glenn and sighed in defeat. With her free hand, she waved Sasha to come over them and, despite de disease, the woman did her best to show strength. She helped Glenn from the other side, and together they walked further into the cell-block.

“Elle… what is really going on?” the question sounded gentle on Sasha’s whispers, but it still had that edge of fear and concern. Eleanor didn’t answer until she sat Glenn on a chair and gave him some hot tea, which he took with gratitude, then Asian man looked at the young woman and this one let out another defeated sigh.

“Caleb also has it”

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

“Since when?”

Oh, Maggie would have never imagined that her return of the supplies run would turn into something like this. Beside her, outside of death row, Rick Grimes passed from left to right… like a lion. She watched attentively at his reflection on the glass panel, as well as the cream coated woman that stood on the other side.

“He began with a high fever yesterday noon. I’m not sure since when the fever started.”

Eleanor had her handkerchief off. Maggie couldn’t help but find it odd… and compare that look to the one she was more used to, when she had it on. She shuddered, thinking that now her mind associated her friend to disease… to death. Looking more closely, Maggie noticed the hollow of her eyes, the darker bags that formed under them… she noticed the lines that were more pronounced around her furrowed brows, and the way Elle constantly flexed her jaw… as if she was grating her teeth. She knew all those signs of fatigue and stress by heart, his father had the same when he couldn’t save the animals he cared for… when, in other times, the worst they could expect was a fiery complaint of a neighbor, because his father’s help wasn’t enough. Eleanor was currently around Maggie’s age, maybe one year younger and yet… to Maggie, she looked so much older.

“And How is he doing? Will he resist?” Rick asked, his contained tone made Maggie jump. Still pacing back and forth, Maggie learned a long time ago that that was one of the few subtle ways their former leader managed his temper.

“It’s been a day...” Eleanor hugged her elbows with her hands, and looked down… wary and unsure “he could resist one more day… but I don’t think he will any more than that”

Maggie had to bit her lip to refrain from gasping. She wished to believe that Glenn was only on his first day, but he was already very sick when they called Eleanor over. Then was it two days? Maybe one and a half? Will Glenn resist as much?.... will he resist less?; not being able to ask all those questions that morning, Maggie had the hope that she could do so when she returned, but this happened. And now she had another thing to think about… who will replace Dr. S?

The young woman turned to glance at the former sheriff beside her. He had stopped moving and was looking down. He had his hand on his chin and looked in deep thought. He also knew – Maggie thought – that they would need to assign a replacement. Rick would never let Eleanor handle this on her own, not now that he knew she was overloaded.

That only meant he would go for her father.

“Maggie,” The woman looked up startled to meet brown eyes “You wanted to talk to Glenn? He’s been a little restless, it would do you both good to talk” she offered with a little smile, no more than a perk.

“How is he?”

“Better” Eleanor answered and Maggie gazed at her face and eyes… searching for proof of a lie.

When she found none, she gave a relieved smile “Yeah, I’d like to see him”

“I’ll bring him over” the young woman exchanged one last glance with Rick. Her smile disappeared and she tensed her jaw again. “Maybe I could use some fresh air too”

The sheriff nodded and without saying anything more, he walked out and into the yard. Maggie glanced back at the room where Eleanor was, but she was already gone. The minutes that she spent waiting were almost like hours… and when her patience wore off he walked over to the window panel, trying to see past the door and onto the inner hallway of death row… onto the cell-block, trying to see any sign of her husband. It was at that moment that the door opened and she jumped back, only to return and press herself against that glass panel.

Eleanor had to be too optimist to say his husband was doing better, or she was just too worried to notice. Almost leaning completely over Eleanor, Glenn stumbled over the room and unceremoniously fell on the chair presented to him. His forehead had clear marks of sweat, he had bloodshot eyes and bags under them… he was impossibly pale. A small piece of clothing was on his left hand; Maggie didn’t pay attention to it until she saw Glenn hide it from her sight in haste. The silence grew even more awkward when Maggie glanced at Eleanor, who stood beside Glenn for far too long. Then, she walked away, closing the door behind her and then… opening the large metal front door of the death row. The clang of the door closing resonated through the empty space like the roar of thunder; Maggie took that cue to seat on a chair beside her

“I’ll be just past the door, if he feels too tired or something happens… call me right away” she said and only when Maggie nodded she walked away.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Eleanor walked in long and slow strides over the fence. The entrance of Block A wasn’t so far from the fence that separated the inner yard from the field. Only some steps were necessary, but sometimes she wished it would be a mile. From where she was, she studied Rick’s old shirt, no matter how much she protested, he always chose the same colors… those that resembled his sheriff uniform. He had hands on his waist, and even when she finally came to rest beside him he kept gazing at the field… or maybe past it. Eleanor did the same and took in the ominous sight. Without the proper care, the walkers were building up again against the fences… for a moment Eleanor wondered if by night time the situation would be too complicated to handle.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” the voice was barely higher than a whisper but that didn’t matter. The harshness of the tone was enough to make Elle wince in obvious guilt.

“And what was there to say?”

“For starters…” Rick huffed and finally turned to look at her, he had a twisted smirk and a storm forming behind his blue eyes “You could have said that you were alone, that you didn’t have enough medicine, that the work was overwhelming you! That you needed help!”

Eleanor was impassive, and that seemed to fuel Rick more in his anger. He passed a hand through his face and pinched his nose.

“I’m managing on my own Rick-”

“No!” he cut her off and began pacing again, Eleanor bit down a sigh by the time Rick turned to look at her “What you are doing is putting yourself in danger! You-“ he huffs “Caleb is ill, and if this keeps up… you’ll fall ill too”

“The more reason I can’t ask any of you for help” Rick looks to the side and he stubbornly shakes his head. Eleanor’s emotions rise to the surface as she recognizes the emotions of Rick for what they are… pain, worry, fear.

“You can’t do this alone”

“Rick..”

“You won’t do this alone,” he said more determined “I’ll tell Hershel” he turns for good and walks away. Eleanor chases after him.

“You can’t get Hershel in any of this!” she picks up her pace to get in front of him. Lifting her hands, she tries to make him slow down or stop; but Rick keeps walking and she begins to walk backwards, as if she was trying to push a moving wall. “He is too old, he’ll get infected and then what! What will I tell Maggie!” at that… Rick stops “Glenn is already there, and she won’t allow for her father to be there too… and, we also need someone to look out for the children. We can’t just involve him in this Rick”

“Then we’ll have them choose” Eleanor grimaces and looks away “We’ll talk to the council and the volunteers will help you”

“There’s not going to be any freedom in that decision and you know it” she said, finally coming to a stop, they look at each other. Eleanor sighs, and soon realizes that no matter what she says that she can do or will do… in the end, Rick was right and she would eventually need help one way or another. Rick nods, more to himself than to her.

“I’ll assemble the council,” he says and starts to walk away.

“Rick” she tempts and Rick turns around to face her, Elle hesitates for a moment before she decides to ask “Has… has Carl taken the medicine?”

Rick stops and looks at her for a moment before answering. It was one eternal and excruciating moment… and just before she urges him to speak, Rick answers.

“He hasn’t shown any fever. But I instructed him how to use it in case something would arise”

Eleanor nods with her eyes closed and lets out a long breath of unchained relief. Carl was saved, the incident of the infected woman didn’t complicate things as she thought it would. She had to be honest with herself at least on something like that… if Carl were to walk to block A with the signs of the disease, she wasn’t sure how will she be able to take it. She swallowed and could feel the bittersweet taste of her guilt in her mouth. She didn’t want anyone to help her, because somehow she has put this upon herself… she contributed to being alone; she was sure that her decision sealed Caleb’s destiny. She didn’t deserve any help.

“Eleanor…”

“Call for the council, we’ll all decide… all of us Rick; I won’t let Hershel in that block cell unless his daughter consents to it”

Blue eyes and brown eyes collide with each other and the young woman notices he has somehow calmed down. Rick sighs and steps forward. He lifts his hand as if reaching out to something, he moves to reach her shoulder but Eleanor shakes her head, not wanting to get him more contaminated. The hand then goes further beyond and cups the back of her head. Eleanor closes her eyes when she feels slightly chopped lips on her forehead, and a breathed laugh escapes her own.

“I promised to protect you”

“And I said there was no need for that, but that won’t stop you… will it?” she giggled, but her momentary lightness was again replaced by a frown “Rick… if-… no; when you go see Carl, can you tell him I’m okay”

A resigned and rather disapproving sigh came as answer.

“Ca-can you tell him we are doing fine? … please”

“You know how that went last time”

“Please”

He pinched his nose but nodded and Eleanor let out the air she was holding up… relieved. She bit down the urge to smirk, it was ironic that she once was against that very notion; it felt like a lifetime, maybe it had been as long as that. All at once, the realization that she has known these people for almost two years came to her and a new surge of strength filled her inside. She stood up straight and lifted her head; with a determined gaze, she met blue eyes again.

“We’ll get through this… Together”

“Together” he half asked with a worried frown.

“Together” Eleanor reassured him and with that last promise he walked away.

 

 

Eleanor tucked her hands on the pockets of the coat she was using and returned to death row with long strides. Once inside, she noticed that Maggie and Glenn had kept on talking. Maggie looks at her and with a more relaxed smile she gets up and thanks for the time she gave them; Eleanor turns to look at Glenn and he also looks a little better, more relaxed, and by the look of his left hand, the had controlled the coughing. She uses that moment to tell Maggie about the council reunion they were going to have in an hour. The young woman grows restless but nods and leaves. That’s when she decides to enter the cell blocks and more specifically, the room where Glenn was.

“What is going to happen? You’ll…. decide on a… replacement for Dr. S?” he says between gasps, Eleanor has lifted him and now both were walking to his respective cell.

“We’ll talk about it… I rather have no one else inside here you know” she commented. Glenn grunted

“You can’t take care of all of us on your own”

“Yeah, I heard that already,” she said with a sigh “But nevertheless, my options are limited. Hershel is too much of a risk… Maggie won’t allow it. Maggie is the other person with some medical experience-”

“But I won’t allow it” Glenn hurried to say and Eleanor smirked, lifting her hand as to concede him the point. Glenn considered… “What about Carol?”.

“No.”

Eleanor cut him off and the Asian man lifted his eyebrows, showing his surprise. Eleanor swallowed another lump on her throat and before Glenn could ask her the reason for such an unbending decision, she got up. Glenn followed her with his eyes as she walked to the entrance of his cell again... stopping only for a moment to look back. The young man frowned at her serious expression.

“I don’t want Carol in here”.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

The deadly silence of the building was broken by the raspy sound if a cough and a grunt of pain. A cold sensation ran up Rick’s spine and he climbed the stairs to the third floor two at a time…

“Carl,” he called… and he came to a halt at the beginning of the hallway once he spotted his son. Hershel and Andrea were standing next to him “Are you alright?”

Carl let out his breath and nodded. Rick carefully examined the face if the teenager for any signs of disease... but only the signs of lack of sleep were visible along with an open expression of pure relief. He tried to remind himself that it would be alright, that Carl still had the medicine Eleanor gave him… but he just couldn’t help it. Rick was now calmer and he almost reassured when that relieved expression changed to one that could only mean business. He turned his attention to Hershel and Andrea, this last one still had the bag of supplies on her hands. Andrea turned worried and Hershel sighed. It seemed to be contagious.

 

“Lizzie has begun to show the symptoms…. I was about to take her to Eleanor” the old man began, and Rick looked around to consider the other expressions. Andrea didn’t look that pleased with the idea, and Carl supported that notion by the stern frown on his face.  

“We’ll take her, there is a council in half an hour” the former police officer informed and it was Hershel’s turn to frown.

“Something happened? Is Elle alright?” Carl hurried to ask and Rick’s chest had a sudden pang of guilt.  _Eleanor is exhausted, Caleb has fallen ill since yesterday noon… probably, and she had been taking care of everything alone ever since, and maybe she would have continued like that weren’t for Glenn and Sasha that bullied her to talk about it._

 

“She’s fine, nothing bad has happened” he croaked the answer and Carl took another moment to accept it and settle. Hershel looked at the teenager, maybe to be sure of the same thing. The spell was broken when Carl took the bag of supplies from Andrea's hands and lifted it over his shoulder. He glanced again at his father and this one nodded in permission, Carl put on his hat and tugged at the front before leaving back to what Rick assumed was his room.

Hershel cleared his throat and offered to go get Lizzie. Andrea exchanged one last look with Hershel before walking over to Rick. She opened her mouth to ask but Rick lifted his hand, in a plead for her to remain silent. 

"Not here," and Andrea reluctantly agreed. 

 

At that moment, Hershel reappeared with a small blonde girl. Rick could hear Andrea sigh resigned; The oldest of the Samuel sisters lifted her gaze to look at the former officer with hooded eyes. A light coat of sweat made her front slightly shine, her eyes looked irritated and her mouth was covered with the sleeve of her shirt. From the corner of the room they came out from, Rick could see another blond head poking out... looking at them.

Lizzie gave a reluctant look at the officed and lawyer as she walked beside Hershel. The girl was weak and sick... but Rick could identify a fierceness in her gaze that made him wish she could survive the disease. They climbed down to arrive again at the courtyard. Rick looked behind him, Lizzie was good enough to walk down the stairs on his own. Maybe the symptoms just kicked in... and if what Eleanor said was accurate, then she had a chance to get cured. Once they were all walking to the death row Rick looked up one last time at the administrative Block... and from where he was, he could make out a sheriff's hat, looking beyond them, to where death row should be.

 

The road to death row.

 

Was it too ironic, was it too cruel... when he was still in duty, he always worked on King County, a small place. Usually, when a criminal was to be prosecuted, he was taken to the bigger jurisdiction, in that case.... Atlanta, Georgia. He had never stepped on a prison like that before, to be honest, he had never walked the long mile... he had never taken any prisoner to what people often associated to the last room of their lives.

And yet, now he was taking there a small sick child...

A shiver ran down his spine, one of those that he didn't feel often... not even after he woke up in the middle of the outbreak. A sudden thought came to him; he side glanced at the blond head. Elizabeth Samuels was just a year younger than Carl... he couldn't help that were the situation different, this could have been his son. He swallowed some saliva and tried to stomp that thought down, the girl had good hopes to live... she just had to have them. And she wasn't going to be alone, Eleanor would be with her. And yet, Eleanor didn't want Carl on Death row, nor even for a suspicion. He couldn't stop thinking that there had to be a reason for it.

  
The plan was to wait for Eleanor to arrive at the council meeting, but this changed everything. Hershel and Andrea parted from him to prepare everything while Rick put a hand on Lizzie's shoulders, guiding her to the side. Immediately after, the child looked from the veterinarian to Rick with some panic.

"B-but.. Where are they going?"

"They have some things to do... and I'll take you to Eleanor"

The girl said nothing more and tugged at the sleeve of her shirt, she tried to hide a small cough and Rick did as if he hadn't heard it. He wanted to forget... how the clouds gave the whole prison a glom and grey look; how Lizzie pushed against his hand for a moment when the shadows of the high-security building swallowed them or when, after many dark corridors and damp corners, they arrive at the big bullet-proof metal door. The fragile body that now trembled with fear... the same one that jumped startled when 

He walked and opened the door to the death row. He looked down at the mechanism and noticed there was a special lock on it... one that maybe Eleanor didn't know it existed... one that could only be unlocked from the outside. He wanted to forget that too. He took in the grey hallway, how the lack of sunlight obscured the place completely... Eleanor would have to turn on the lights before she uses to. He took in the small form that now clung to him for dear life, and finally... he recognized the cream coat at the end of the hallway. She slowly walked to him, maybe he could have knocked but, what was the point? Maybe she thought that too.

He said nothing while Eleanor pulled her handkerchief away and smiled as brightly as she could. Lizzie eased her hold on Rick and walked to Eleanor surer of herself. It was risky, but he knew she did that only to calm her down. Brown eyes looked up to meet blue ones and her smile faltered only for half a second... before she nodded and walked away.

 

He stood there and didn't move until those brown eyes returned; until they both walked out of there. He stomped down the wish to never see her enter that place again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gone for a millennium... I know. I'm sorry, had a lot of things to do and I couldn't get the time nor the inspiration to continue. Anyway, I'm trying my best to keep on going and catching up for all the time I disappeared. Thank you for reading and don't hesitate to comment, suggest and kudo it. ;)


	6. The truth behind a lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The disease does nothing but grow. In a last attempt to treat it, Daryl, Michonne, Bob and Tyreese travel 50 miles away for the scraps of a chance. Their mission is to bring the medicines and antibiotics Eleanor requested before it would be too late. 
> 
> But how much is too late?

 

 

 

> _"What are you thinking about?"_
> 
> _"Yesterday... Zach. Can't stop thinking about it."_
> 
> _"Yeah... me neither."_
> 
> _It's used to be simple, back then... you had some acquaintances, people that came in and out of your life. But now... now there is only us. The people we know, even half the people we know... they might as well be the rest of the world."_
> 
>  

A dark roar escaped his mouth; it was the combination of adrenaline, exhaustion... and rage. Tyreese huffed and rapidly blinked when the drops of sweat threatened to fall and get inside his eyes. Another grunt, somehow similar to his own, could be heard behind him and he swung his machete to collide and clean cut the head of a walker in half. At that moment he saw an opening and jumped past the corpse to run forward, past the road and onto the trees. It was a risky move, the light of the morning was still not strong enough to guide him in complete security, but he had little to no choice. He had to reunite with Daryl and the others. 

 

But wasn't that what he wanted, to begin with?

 

He stopped to look around him, knowing Daryl... he wouldn't risk a flashlight and attract the walkers. Maybe they thought he died, maybe that he sacrificed himself. They were far from the truth... though. It was more like resignation... disappointment. This was a wild chance to save Sasha from the illness; their time was running short, and they weren't even close to P-Tech. It could all be four naught, they would die out here in the woods while his sister waited for him to come back with at least something.

He was still angry.

He stumbled between the trees and struck down some walkers that wandered close enough to him. The huge horde that they saw in the middle of the road was too slow to keep track of him and he used the last bit of his energy he could hear the distinctive noise of Michonne swinging her katana... surely cutting through some rotten skull. There was a moment of silence when Tyreese stepped forward in all exhaustion to the three people that hid in the dark. Daryl put his crossbow down and walked forward in long strides, tugging Tyreese by his shirt and roughly moving him to continue. He let him. He glanced briefly at Bob that answered with an uncertain expression... he had been screaming his name since the moment they decided they had to leave their ar behind. Bo had been the one to panic and tremble in imminent fear when they collided with some walkers... only to notice that it was a whole sea of them... it would have been impossible to come out of that with the vehicle... maybe it was a miracle they were all still alive.

No, that had to be a curse.

He struggled off Daryl's grasp and walked forward, his rage fueling him beyond his usual endurance. The sky finally cleared and the first rays of sunlight shown through the leaves... he heard the leaves crushing behind him and he knew that they were following.

"Tyreese... Tyreese!"

"Ty!"

At th sound of Bb's voice, he stops... and turns around. The light is strong enough to see Daryl walking to him, his assessing gaze is irritating to say the least, it hasn't been some hours when he separated him and Rick from what would have been a serious injury. At that moment he felt he needed the let out and that had also been denied to him. 

"We need to stop and decide how to proceed" Michonne explained. Proceed? they weren't even close to P-tech, they had no vehicle... even if they indeed arrived by foot, the return would be near impossible, especially with the medicines. They were done for, they had failed. 

"We need to find another car and keep'n going, that's what we do," said Daryl pointing to the far forest. "We stay far from the road and we might avoid the walkers, there has to be the suburban houses near"

"How many time will we take?" asked Bob. Daryl pursed his lips and moved his head sideways, loking at the ground. 

"two hours." Daryl walked past him in the direction he signaled, Michonne close behind. Bob reluctantly followed them both until he was next to Tyreese The black man called him for a moment and with a sharp intake of breath, Tyreese turned to follow after Daryl, his long strides had him soon at his side and then... past him. The white man didn't protest, and also hurried his pace. 

  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

 

Rick should know by now that Eleanor always knew something... somehow, about anything and everything. It had happened before, when her intuition played in her favor to the point that she almost seemed psychic... or very good at lying. He could still remember when he confided his problems to her regarding Shane... Lori and Judith. That moment he thought that she already knew all about it and she was just there to hear him or even worse, she was listening to the benefit of someone else. He could remember that he almost felt betrayed and he doubted the person that up until that moment had given him no reason to doubt. When she confessed that she just had suspected something was going on, he still couldn't believe her... but maybe it was the way she discovered things that made her remain silent in the end. She relied strongly on logic but also intuition... and he wondered if, given the correct encouragement, she would have been a police officer. 

Truth was that her mind worked fast to suspect, but the proof was somehow one step behind.

 

 

> _"Why didn't you accept it? Eleanor, you know we don't have the right to turn down people when you-"_
> 
> _"I know... Rick, I know. But not her...., not Carol."_

> _"Why?_

 

Rick reached the hallways of Block A in no time. The high-security building was still divided into normal looking cells and the death row, and if he remembered correctly this is where Karen and David were taken after they stumbled coughing at the end of the council meeting. Rick wasn't part of that reunion, that time he preferred to remain out of it... maybe it was a bad decision, he could have caught on something.

He reached the rooms that Eleanor talked him about, he would have checked twice but it was kind of obvious. No one has returned to this side of Block A, no one has even bothered to get rid of the bloodied pillow. He stepped inside and examined the before mentioned pillow in more detail. the blood had already dried, but it left a clear pattern on it. it was the only mark of blood on the bed... and Rick had to lift the covers to make sure there was no more of it.

 

 

> _When Karen and David were reported as sick, we were still preparing death row to accommodate people. Caleb wasn't sure it was the same thing, so we decided they should stay where they were and receive mild medication until we saw their condition remained the same.... or they were cured._

 

Rick sighed and decided it was no longer worth ignoring the trail of dried blood that came from the place where the bed was and back to the corridor. His knowledge in the field told him that it was a corpse being dragged. Soon.... he found the cell where David was in, he dismissed a closer inspection.... the pattern was just the same.

  

 

> _We suddenly had a lot on our hands and we couldn't check on them all the time. Carol volunteered to keep an eye on them both; and if something bad arose, she would tell us and we would take them to death row._

 

Both trails became one at some point until Rick could recognize the way. He was led there by the same Carol when he was told about the incident.... just minutes after Tyreese found them... just a little later the black man stormed out, and they loosed sight of him.

At that moment he could have never imagined he would go after Eleanor, he had been stupid... he wishes he could have thought ahead and then he could have spared Eleanor the pain and fear that came with Tyreese's own pain... and fear; when he said the black man he knew how that felt he wasn't lying... he still lived with that on his shoulders and the pain has never gone away. 

 

 

> _"She never warned me, and I assumed they were alright... that it was not the disease."_
> 
> _"Could it be she didn't have the chance?"_
> 
> _"At first I though she didn't. But I've checked with all the information that Caled and I have gatthered. It would be the shortest incubation period we've had.... by the way we left them and until we knew of the incident... Rick, I really find it difficult that they would be on the verge of dying by then_."

 

He reached the small courtyard and he instinctively covered his nose with his forearm. The smell was already gone, and the chalked corpses too... still, the smell was buried in his mind; he wasn't unfamiliar to the smell... but it had been a while since he had felt it.... maybe since the day, they defeated the governor. Rick then walks over to the marks f fire and examines them with more detail. His fingers graze the ashy and black surface and he can't help but feel a little disgusted of that sensation of something oily in his fingers. He slowly takes it to this nostrils and takes an almost reluctant sniff. His browns go down in confusion, as he identifies a subtle trace of gasoline. He muses for a moment that they have burned walkers bodies before, but instead of wasting precious gas they would use the body fat of the corpses as fuel... as Eleanor always kindly put it... humans were as inflammable as anything else.  

 

 

> _"What are you trying to say?"_
> 
> _"I... I have no proof... of anything. But I know that Carol knows more than she's telling you... and until I'm not sure she's innocent... I won't let her inside."_

 

With a long and defeated hiss of breath, the former officer gets up and walks to the exit... to the main courtyard. The proof was there to be taken, this time... there is nothing that is one step behind but only forgotten by the people around it. rick passes a hand through his face, suddenly feeling it dirty... as if the bodies were still burning before him and the ashes rested on his skin. Eleanor said, that someone had killed them and burnt them, and it happened in the course of hours... the gasoline explained that. the bodies were unrecognizable, Tyreese only recognized Karen because of a small bracelet she had when she died. It was clear in his head, someone had murdered Karen and David and then dragged their bodies to the small yard to burn them, they had used gasoline to accelerate the process.

Someone had done it and Eleanor thought Carol did. 

His gaze travels the field in search of a grey head and at first, he can't find that head until he notices the blue blouse she was wearing that morning. He frowns and looks again... with a sneered curse, he runs over the gate and across the field to the outher fence that protected them from the walkers. 

"Carol!" he calls with all the force of his lungs. The woman hears nothing at first, and Rick has to cry her name again for her to lift her head and notice him. Rick waves his hand to the side, screaming for her to run and get out of there. The police officer cannot make what she does, but remains where she is. He picks up his pace and finally reaches the fences that surrounded the field. Going through the wired opening, he realizes that she is outside... trying to fix or clean the filter they installed on the pump of the canal. He passes the second fence in a rush and by that moment, Carol has let the hoose go and made a run for it. She uses her machete but it stucks on a walkers head and she stumbles forward... she was defenseless. Not thinking it through and certainly not regretting it enough, he pulls out his gun and fires at the walkers surrounding Carol. The thundering sound of the weapon seems to shake her to reality and soon she stands and joins Rick to return inside the field. 

They pant, both scared and exhausted. Rick looks over the fence and watches how the walkers are attracted to the sound he made and now made a little group that pushed against the fence. Those were going to grow in number, he simply knew it. 

"What were you doing out there alone?" he chastised. Carol stood up straight and walked away... to the courtyard. 

"There was no water coming through... I had to go clean the filter-"

"That's something you shouldn't be doing alone" that made her stop, she turned around... her face an odd combination of shame and defiance. Rick rubbed his face "What if I wasn't there... what if you were bitten"

"Well it's a risk I'm willing to take, there are not many people available for all the chores and we have to do what we can," she said, they entered the courtyard and she didn't wait a second before pumping some water in a couple of buckets that waited patiently for her. Rick studied her movements while thinking about what she just said. He had been hearing different versions of the same idea... that they were all leaders now and as leaders, they had to be willing to risk and sacrifice themselves for others. 

 

 

"Is there anything you wouldn't do for the people here?"

Carol's clear eyes fix on his own. She stays staring for a couple of minutes and for once... Rick doesn't want to rush it, doesn't want to know. The echo of the things he heard and the things he saw were a weight on his mind... facts that stated a truth.

"No." Carol says with a hint of finality. As if the argument is over she walks way, buckets of water in hand. Rick knows that those won't be of much help, the filter hadn't been properly placed. He calls her name before she can walk away for good. The sound is strained as if he's beckoning a small child that broke a base. She stops and turns around to face him, but Rick looks at the grey of the concrete floor. Sometimes there are things that are to be spoken bluntly, fast and piercing... because one way or another, they are going to do harm.

"Did... did you kill Karen and David?"

He looks up, and nor her voice nor her stance father when she answers. Her face shows determination, resolution but also a hint of guilt... still, there is no remorse, and Rick knows that what she had said had to be true. 

 

"I did."

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

 

"Put those there and come to help me please," 

The package of bottle water rattled when it touched the ground. With a sigh and a barely audible grunt, Oscar rose and stretched, his hands settling in his sore back. He cracked the bones of his neck one final time and then took the wheeled bed, strolling it to the center of the building, and inside one of the cells. The space was barely enough to enter the bed and for him and Eleanor to squeeze around it. He arrived just in time to witness it again.... the last moments. The gurgling sound of blood-chocking had him sick and he instinctively tugged the handkerchief that he had tied around his face, making sure he still had it. The whole episode wasn't that long, even if Oscar felt it like it was hours of torture. When the person stopped gurgling, spitting and coughing... it lay immobile on the bed and he simply knew that person was dead. At that moment, the young woman took a small notebook and looked at her pocket watch. At first, Oscar was unsure why the time it took would be that important, it almost seemed too morbid to him... but then, Eleanor explained that she wanted to find a pattern to follow and prioritize the people that were possibly more at risk. It was logical but, recollecting the data only meant that she had to wait for people to die... and that was the part where Oscar was not alright with. 

Then came the part for what he was really here for. Elenor scooted over the head of the bed and silently pulled out a pocket knife. He noticed hse did her best to not arise any strong sound and she instructed Oscar to do the same, were she too busy to do it. He saw how she gently lifted the head of the deceased person and put a larger kerchief than they had, then... she pierced the head. The piece of cloth soaked on the red liquid and Oscar took the queue to lift this person and put it on the wheeled bed. He stepped outside of the cell and soon after him, came the young woman. She pushed the bed over, careful to keep the white sheet over the corpse she intended to move.

When he first arrived, he mused how Eleanor managed to do all of this on her own. But then again, the meeting had been made for that same purpose... because everyone wondered the same thing, and Eleanor refused to explain it. He cleared his throat, feeling something tugging at his mouth. he wanted to say something, dispose of the body for her... but he decided not to. He already tried once, and Eleanor gave him that look... that her order would be obeyed no matter the argument.  It left the black man to wonder if he was doing his job properly... or that he was not making a difference and Eleanor was making sure of that. He scratched the back of his neck; he was not a person to give in to panic and here he was... letting everyone else's paranoia to rub on him.

 

"How are we on gasoline?... Oscar", her question brought him back to the present.

"I'll go check" he offered and Eleanor nodded, with a little smile. He refused to let his discontent be known as he walked over to the door and stepped outside. It didn't take him long to pick up on the pattern that was forming... he would suggest doing something more taxing and Eleanor would dismiss his suggestion politely, giving him something else to do instead... something that involved going out of death row. He understood what she was trying to do, trying to keep him at bay. Oscar wished to believe it was because she cared about him, but her behavior was not normal. He had worked with Eleanor enough time to not only gain her trust but know when she fully engaged in teamwork. She was a private woman if she didn't look the type... and when she sought solitude it was clear that you wouldn't find her in a while, no matter where you look. He kept repeating to himself... this was different. In other time... and maybe circumstances, he wouldn't have given so many turns around it and just have accepted that subtle protection, but something told him to not give in to her; something told her she was not alright, that any of this was alright... that Dr. S falling ill too was only a reminder that anyone could fall ill and they both fell in that category. He promised Rick... and he would keep his promise. 

 

 

> _Do not leave her alone. If she suddenly says she needs to do something you follow her. If she says she can handle it on her own you stay close and above everything... if something happens you tell us._  

 

It send a shiver down his spine... more used to Eleanor's subtle and gentle way of command, he had forgotten how imposing Rick could be. The council meeting was hardly a fair exchange... the news about Caleb had been the bomb... the shot in the air, the final straw. The people of the council were scared, some panicked and some even aggressive, but no one had known how demanding and final Rick had been... no one but him. Hershel was not present, nor was Glenn... or Michonne, or the usual faces. It only left Andrea, Eleanor, and Maggie to handle the people that wanted to represent the rest and had never been admitted into such a reunion before. Oscar hated politics and talks like that... especially because people often thrived to contradict each other... in the end Rick had been the one to put the order once again. When tasks were given, and when Rick pulled Oscar aside to request him to go watch and help Eleanor the way he did, he suspected something was not alright. The way he requested his help was something he wasn't completely sure about. Oscar reluctantly walked to Death Row with Eleanor... but as the woman talked to him and tried to ease his thoughts about working there he felt the pang of guilt build inside him. He was shamelessly suspecting her like all the others. Since the whole thing started, he had refrained from hearing those voices and now there he was, hearing them. It was only when he entered the damp and dark hallways of Block A... when he was received at the door by sickly but firm Sasha and a grumpy but very much alive Glenn that he knew all of it was horseshit.  His promise indeed wasn't that hard to commit to, he cared and worried over the stubborn -and also brilliant- young woman. Regaining his resolve, he finished his work and when he refilled the generators to last for another night, he returned to the building. He found Eleanor carrying a basket of bloodied rags and Oscar took it from her hands, knowing where that had to go. Eleanor gave him a look and walked to the other side... already having something else to busy herself with. 

"How was it?"

"It was almost empty... I refilled" Eleanor frowned worriedly. 

"How much is left?"

"...It was the last we had" Oscar reluctantly provided and Eleanor nodded resigned. 

"We'll have to tell Rick about that..." she mused and pulled out her wristwatch. the old thing clicked but the straps were too old and destroyed to use them properly, and she only used it as a pocket-watch "It's way past noon... we missed lunch" she said with a resigned sigh.

"Wouldn't you rest instead?" He reluctantly offered. Eleanor looked at him, for the first time that afternoon assessing the idea of resting the night. He almost crossed his fingers, waiting for a positive response. Her worry soon disappeared, it was swallowed by a renewed energy "Okay... how about we have an early dinner.... make a little round and we call it a night? You could also use a little rest... you look tired-"

"Yeah maybe I'll rest" like hell he would... he knew what she was trying to do. But instead of antagonizing her, he smiled "Then it's a plan... I could start it now-" but they were cut off by a faraway sound. It sounded metal and she frowned at the same time Oscar did. 

 

"What was that?" 

"I think it's outside.... can you take over for a sec? I'll see what's up" before Oscar could say anything at all... she walked away. He sighed resigned and walked in the other direction... far into the last cells, there was the stock of food and medicines that they still had. 

 

He slumped his shoulders and bit down a discouraged sigh...what they had, it was almost nothing. True, he knew close to nothing about medicines, but the few they had were ones that even he knew the use for... that only meant they weren't that good. He pushed them close to the entrance. The small box that contained them was barely half full... maybe Eleanor would also say that they had to tell Rick and the others about it. He turned to gather the necessary things for a simple hot soup with noodles, he wondered if the people inside would be able to stomach anything else. the lanky noodles reminded him of so many months ago, when they just joined this crazy group out of pure dumb luck... what the other interns tried to pull off... he still shuddered when he thought that Rick would have killed him and Axel if he had enough justification. And as it happened many times before, he thought of Axel... and missed the scaredy cat. He smirked, thinking that right now he would be as far away from Block A as possible, while he didn't think twice when Maggie suggested to be him to come here and help Eleanor. They all had something to lose... he wasn't that sure of what he had. 

The sound of metal on the far away hallway told him that Eleanor was back; he stood, supplies in hand and came out of the storage cell, but nearly dropped them at the sight. 

The voices were strained, and he could make out nothing... but something about them bothered him. He picked up his pace and put the cans and stuff on the metal table before he rushed forward. Eleanor was giving him her back, her arms stubbornly holding the frame of the metal door... as if she was preventing someone to be inside. From the other side, Oscar could make out the white beard of Hershel and more importantly, a box on his hands. 

"Can I help with something?" he reluctantly offered, it wasn't as if they didn't hear him come over. The old man gazed at him, the grey eyes glared at both of them and Oscar also took back a step; the man came with a purpose... 

"Oscar... yes, I would like you to take Hershel back to the administrative block," she said curtly. 

"Eleanor..." this one started with an exasperated huff

"Thanking you for the herbs Hershel, I'll let you know if we need any more," she said, taking the box in a sharp move and walking away. She gave Oscar a glare and this one understood what he had to do. Before Hershel could use the opening she made to enter Death Row, the black man stepped forward and blocked it, closing the door behind him. 

 

"Eleanor!" Hershel raised his voice. It was that commanding but also frustrated tone that he only heard the old man use one time... back when the governor was still a threat... when Rick walked away on them.

"Mr. Greene... you know she won't bend" the old man sighed and rubbed his face "let's just... go back to the administrative block"

"She doesn't look like it, but she can be even more stubborn than me" Oscar barked a laugh "and she always gets her way too"

"But does she... really?"

The mood fell like a house of cards. Hershel looked down with a guilty frown. Oscar nodded.. feeling the same thing. Two long seconds passed before Hershel turned to leave, Oscar behind him. They reached the entrance of Block A and when Oscar opened the door to the courtyard, he took a deep breath; even if the upcoming twilight, the air around them was still warm.... it gave him no relief. 

 

"At least you are inside, How have you seen her? Is she holding up?" asked Hershel suddenly... maybe too sudden. Oscar didn't want to answer that question. Maybe because he wished he did more, or maybe because he couldn't bring himself to explain how has his afternoon been this far without begging the veterinarian to get inside there and force her to rest. 

"As far as what I've seen today, she runs the show" he shrugged, averting the strong gaze, "And she seems fine doing it,"

"That's a little hard to believe, but she has become quite the leader these past days," despite his irritation, Hershel spoke with fondness; and Oscar felt awkward again. "Why are they outside?" Oscar lifted his gaze to look at the old man, he was frowning... so he followed his eyes to the front. "It's late, shouldn't they be turning in?" 

Oscar swallowed nervously. In front of them and most probably coming from Block C and D, were a group of at least eight people. They looked healthy, so indeed... their presence so close to Death Row didn't make any sense. One of them, a man on his forties stepped forward to Oscar and Hershel. He cleared his throat and looked between the old man and him. Oscar had the realization of what this was all about and groaned internally. 

"Mr. Hershel... Oscar, we've come to see our relatives and friends." he said with conviction "Tell Eleanor we want to hold an audience with them."

"You know you can't come all at once..." began Oscar unsure; Hershel stepped forward. 

"Well... it's a little late and most of them are resting, maybe you could come tomorrow..." Oscar frowned, Hershel wasn't inside, he had no idea of how things were to affirm such a thing. 

"As it has been yesterday... as it will be tomorrow-" a woman jumped into the conversation, she looked more irritated and indignant than the man. "First time we came she told us to keep away because we could get sick... and now because it is late and they are resting! Why won't she come out and tell us the truth already!"

The others grunted and hummed their approval. More nervous, Oscar stepped forward. "Truth? She has already told you the truth. People are sick, resting, barely capable of moving and tired. There is a windowed panel from where you can talk but it can only be one at a time... and do you have any idea of how long it'd take to move the patients from there to their beds. We can take all night if you so insist but that is madness" he raised his voice, and at least his reasons made some sense. Hershel looked in complete confusion from Oscar to the people. The man on his forties stepped back, considering what the ex-convict said, however... the woman didn't look like she would be deterred. "Or maybe I could consult this with Rick and Her to decide,"

He didn't intent to menace, and less to menace with telling Rick. There was a silent consensus of some people that Rick was still more or less the leader in dire situations. Even if he wasn't active on that these past months, the tale of him saving half Woodbury from a psychopathic Governor left him almost in a position of a retired war-hero. People respected him. Indeed, the woman stepped back too, and with a look of open resentment and distrust, they turned back and walked away. 

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Hershel in a whisper after the people were far away enough to not listen. "Why are they like this?"

Oscar let out his breath with a hiss. "It was not commented on the meetings, but there has been... some rumors"

"Rumors?.... What rumors" he asked, a little short on his breath

"Mr. Hershel, you don't need to think about these things... they are only-" but he cut him short. 

"Oscar... tell me,"

Oscar took a deep breath, already knowing he would not like this... that he would not believe this, just as he hadn't believed it either when he first heard. 

 

"That Eleanor is not treating them, that she's only leaving them there to die."

 

There was a short silence after that. The old veterinarian widened his eyes, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and Oscar saw the instant his eyes filled with that anger and outrage. Without warning, the old man turned around and marched towards the entrance of Block A again. 

"Mr.Greene!" Oscar called after him. The old veterinarian was engulfed by darkness and Oscar frowned, Eleanor should have lightened the hallways by now... but she didn't. He didn't think too much about it, more concentrated onto not falling flat on his face and reaching the old man before he arrived at this destination.   

"That's.. That's nonsense!" He tried to keep his voice down, but the echo in the hallway made it sound like he was shouting. Oscar used that sound to finally know where he was going, they had reached the end of the hallway and to the door that connected Block A with the outside of Death Row. 

"Mr. Greene-"

" No! That child!....... that child has done nothing but-" Oscar surged forward and took the handle, just at the same time the old veterinarian did. They struggled with the door handle until with a swift move, Hershel managed to turn the handle and with his shoulder, he forced the door open, Oscar almost lost his footing. 

"Mr. Gree-... Hershel wait!" Oscar called to him, trying to grab him by the shoulder, but the old man shrugged it off sharply. 

"And tell me... Oscar, when did this rumors started? when people stopped believing that without her or Caleb we could be worse!" they were now in front of the entrance of Death Row and Hershel used his palm to knock on the metal door with all of his forces. The clangs that echoed through the hall resonated. Oscar was sure that at least half the people inside were very much awake and aware of the situation. "Eleanor!"

"Hershel the council was clear and Rick too... you'll gain nothing talking to her-"

"I'm not here to talk to her... Eleanor!" he hit the door again. 

Oscar sighed resigned, the echoes of the metal door settling on the back of his mind. Maybe this was going to bring more problems, but he couldn't deny that the help of the veterinarian was necessary. These past hours and since he came here... he had done nothing but to hang on the periphery, helping only when Eleanor allowed it... he had to admint that even he didn't feel that he made that much of a difference. He was brought to reality not by the noise, but by the silence. He frowned, Hershel was beside him already exhausted. With all that ruckus Eleanor should have alrady been outside and screaming bloody murder at them..... but she wasn't. He passed from feeling bothered to be alarmed in no time. 

"She's not answering... why is she not answering" he whispered going closer to the door fiddleing with it in the darkness... trying to find the handle to open it.  Then he was reminded one more time that she hadn't turned on the lights... something was not right. In his worry, he felt he took an eternity to find the handle and when he finally did, he cursed and yanked the door open. The sight that welcomed them was far from reassuring. 

 

"Help.... help!"

 

The whimpers were raspy and too weak to be heard from the outside. Oscar rushed over, Hershel came over at his own pace. Whatching him approach, Sasha moved to the side, leaving Eleanor's head back on the concrete. It swoon around and Oscar kneeled beside it in panic. 

"Eleanor.. kid, hey," he said, giving the woman's cheeks little slaps to wake her to contiousness... nothing. 

"What happenned?" The old man said to Sasha, the woman panted... her face soaked on sweat.

"She... collapsed, I -i don't know what happened," she said before having a small cogughin fit. With some difficulty Herhsel bended over to insect the unconcious woman he felt her pulse and touced her forehead.  The few seconds he took to do so were pure torture. Hershel looked around and he had a panicked face... intrigued Oscar did the same. Aroun them, and becaouse of the ruckus before, some heads poked out of their cells. Some were far worse than others... and oscar felt a lump on his throat when he noticed a small blond head that belonged to Lizzie.  

"Oscar" the old man called and he turned sharply to look at him, Hershel was still looking around him, as if any movement would be fatal "... lift her gently and take her to an empty cell, and wait for me there" 

"I can go back on my own" protested Sasha

"No such thing," the veterinarian said, staingin up an helping Sasha in the process. 

Oscar looked back down and his large hands sneaked under eleanor's shoulders and knees. Taking a breath and with a wift move, he lifted the young woman from the ground. With a small movement of his elbow, Oscar tried to support LEeanor's head, but this one hanged loselly to the sides. She weighed less than he expected. With long strides, he walked over to the cell next to the storage room, a second cell they spared but never actually used. He passed Caleb's room and thanked the maker he seemed to be sleeping.

With one last swift move, he was careful to let Eleanor's head fall into the pillow... then acommodated her body on the bed. 

 

Both supplies for dinner and the box with leaves remained forgoten.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! My time is a little limited and even if I'm not fast enough to post these... I never plan to stop.
> 
> Next chapter is already on its way. I felt the disease arc is still too long but... I had to watch again some chapter to keep good story line and noticed in the series it's even way slower... after next chapter I intend to move from this... we all know that it's aftermath to the prison that matters. ;)
> 
> I'll never stop thanking you for your support and interest. These fanfics are a scape of my busy life and a way to relax, but I'm happy to also know people like it, comment it, suggest stuff... thaaangs (couldn't help myself), your opinion and support is also important to me.


	7. House of cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an attempt to contain the disease, the people that were sick had moved to Death Row and stayed in quarantine. In an attempt to give them acceptable living conditions, Eleanor and Caleb decided to take it upon themselves the treatment and care of these patients. But Caleb has fallen ill, and Eleanor followed him soon after, collapsing out of exhaustion. Their system is finally falling to pieces.

 

 

 

"Should.... should we tell Rick?"

 

 

The question hanged in the air, and Hershel gave Oscar a look. It was dark outside, the lights of Death Row already working. The clouds shadowed the light of the moon... and outside everything was pitch black. The old man sighed and turned in his seat to address Oscar properly. 

"I don't think this is a matter of 'if' but... 'how'..." Oscar nodded with a defeated gaze. As if one hiss of breath had been enough... two others also followed; one of them with a rasping sound.

"But we can't tell him," 

"Glenn..."  Hershel disapproved. 

"You shouldn't even be here... in the first place" he answered between ragged breaths. Hershel contained the urge to push the young man, his son-in-law, back down... wrap him in his sheets like a burrito and ground him to his bed. 

"But without her... how are we going to-"

"Oscar is here,"

 

Oh, he's finally out of bullets. Sasha givens him a look. No one in that little cell, not even Oscar, believed that statement. They here because of that, in the first place. Because Eleanor would only take one person whose involvement with the disease would be the smallest due to his lack of knowledge. She might have fooled everyone else but not him. 

"Th-the medicines will be here soon-"

"Glenn.... we don't know that," he cuts the young Asian man with a patient but tired tone. He knew where he was coming from... in truth, they were out of options. If he told the others what happened, he would be kicked out. If he was to be kicked out of here again, Maggie would be the next one to take over. It filled him with guilt and panic; he didn't wish to see his daughter in the same situation than Eleanor... not even a second. 

"But... is she sick, is it the disease?" Sasha asked the sensible question. Oscar tensed, clearly unsure, but Hershel didn't need to give in to panic. 

"I've checked her, she doesn't present all of the symptoms.... she has a mild fever but it is too low to say it is the disease or not. As far as the now... she is exhausted," Hershel turned to the side, "Oscar, have you noticed if Eleanor had taken any breaks... eaten... or stopped her activities in any way?" Oscar took a moment too long to think. When it finally came to it, Hershel had already formed an idea on his head. 

"We were about to make dinner and take a break... other than that, no. Something tells me that she didn't sleep or eat when she was alone either," He ended, with finality. Hershel turned to Sasha and Glenn. To his dismay, both of them didn't notice, Eleanor never shared any meal with them, but was diligent to give them sustain. The fire that the old man had in his stomach ignited again. He remembered the words of Oscar back when they were outside. The 'rumors'. He was raging... he knew, he had avoided that feeling continuously. Denied it when his wife died and was taken by the walker infection. It rested by his side, waiting for him to give in and let go again. He took a deep breath, people talked out of fear and uncertainty. They meant no harm. Eleanor had done everything in her power and responsibility had consumed her until she could no longer stand, that was a mistake... honest... but a mistake nonetheless. Hershel had let his head hang for as long as he had been thinking when he looked up, the three young people looked expectant at him... they were also unsure to take action. Nothing looked beneficial enough. 

"Eleanor is resting in a cell... and it's late. We won't gain a thing, calling for a meeting at this hour, deciding on who should take over while she recovers. We'll wait until she wakes up and then... she'll decide with us or..."

"or?" 

"We'll tell Rick in the morning, if Glenn is right and the medicines arrive today, we would have made the right call. Eleanor holds herself responsible for this, accusing her of neglecting her duty now will do her no good, especially in the eyes of the others." Hershel gave a last look at Oscar, who understood. The black man nodded with his head, the discussion dissolved. Hershel took Glenn back to his cell, while Oscar did the same with Sasha. Once it was done, he walked over to the center of the Death Row, where the table was and started picking up the box of leaves that Eleanor had left to fall. Oscar walked beside him and took the supplies to make dinner. Hershel took his time, setting the hot water and making the tea he had meant to make from the beginning. He couldn't help but wonder if Eleanor knew she was at the last of her forces when she forcefully shoved him away... only an hour ago. Maybe she did, but she thought she could still handle it. It made him proud of the young woman... but also left him with that feeling of inadequacy, that his youth hadn't been that selfless.

The night had just stated. Hershel prayed, after long years, that Daryl and the others would come back with the medicines and end the nightmare. 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Carl paced, back and forth. There was no moon out in the sky, the clouds that came over it made sure of that. The night was pitch black, the space he walked in was clean and devoid of debris... he cleaned it himself, maybe that was why he wasn't scared to trip and fall with something. He knew where everything was even if he couldn't see it. 

What he wanted to see was subtly illuminated, like stars on the ground... the lights were on inside Death Row. The only place that was shamelessly allowed such a  waste of resources. The same questions that had plagued him all day came back. He was already tired of them, his ire had already been swallowed whole by worry and panic. It had left him with anxiety and resentment. He needed to do something else than checking on kids, giving cans and accompanying stubborn old Hershels to the woods for tea leaves. Sometimes, his more rebellious spirit urged him to just leave the place and go out, stand guard, check the fences... do something. His father wasn't aware of the time and people that it took to administrate this place nowadays. He, however, had an idea. His late nights with a chatty Eleanor had taught him how things had been structured over the months... of how much everyone was doing. He carefully studied other peoples roles and noticed the effort it took. Maybe that's why when this started he was frantic to know if everything was not going to collapse. It bothered him, to know and not know at the same time... to try to imagine the situation simply because your father had grounded you to a floor stocked with papers and dust... because you had made sure yourself that you could not be trusted with too much information. Because you had been stupid. 

 

His hand moved to his pocket, the fingertips brushed over the pills that were safe on is jeans pocket. 

 

So... why was he pacing now, and not looking out at the window? He had done enough of that. He had hoped for Eleanor to come out of Block A... in vain. He had hoped to spot Daryl and the car they took coming back to the prison with the medicines... in vain. He had searched for his father to appear or walk around, but he had eluded him. _'By the time you'll find him I'll be already gone'_... Hershel had said to him that afternoon when he had almost sneaked out on him. It burned him, his father was indeed avoiding him.  

He sighed... resigned and walked to the nearest wall, letting his back slide down it and sitting again. As much as he fantasized about going rebel and leaving the building behind, he was not going to do it. Be it the fact that there were a lot of logical reasons for him to stay put where he was... or the other way around, be it that he had still no reasonable reason to sneak out and make his father mad, or be a nuisance to Elle. He needed something more than his own restlessness.

 

 

His wish came true with a sound like thunder.

 

 

It was gunfire. Carl jerked straight in a second, then stood up in another and ran to the window. It was all so dark that he couldn't see if people came out in panic, or where the problem was located. Then another... he shivered. Something had gone terribly wrong, it all came back to him as if it had been that morning and not two days ago; the break in Block D, that it was the disease, Eleanor in the middle of it.  
He ran to the door and out the hallway, some teenagers were peeking through the doors scared. They all had heard it.

"Her-... Hershel!" at first he wished to scream it out loud, but then realized it was a bad idea, shouting mane people panic. He rushed to the room he knew the old man should be and pushed the door opened. He called again with an angry whisper.

There was no one inside, he frowned. Carl had accompanied Hershel to the woods in the afternoon, it was not even dark outside. The old man didn't allow him to even get a glimpse of Block A, forced him to go back to the administrative block instead, promising he would be back in little time. He did not approve, but Hershel insisted and he knew he had to obey... because he was still a kid. It infuriated him, and when he heard movement outside of his own room he didn't bother to look if it was Hershel who came back. He should have; the old man wasn't there.

He wasn't sure how his intuition worked when it did, but he feared the old veterinarian was involved in all of this.

"Carl!" he recognized his father. He didn't shout but it made Carl jump regardless. He had a flashlight on his hand and nothing more. At the sight of him, some children attempted to come out and ask questions and his father quickly told them to stay inside and wait. Most of them obeyed.

"What is going on outside?!" Carl whispered once he was close enough to this father; closer than he had ever been since the whole thing started "Those were gunshots!"

"I know... and I need your help,"

They ran back outside.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

It was the smell of food that stirred her to consciousness... of all things.

 

She turned her head left and right, but then settled to the right and opened her eyes. Hershel saw the moment her brain started working again when she recognized her surroundings... and then when she recognized him. She frowned and moved to sit. Hershel was about to put a hand to stop her, but he didn't need to. The girl stopped mid-way and slowly blinked a couple of times before slowly going back to her former position, all the while with a hand on her left temple.

"You fainted,"

She turned her eyes at him again. Hershel resisted the urge to smile for a second time when she closed her eyes and sighed in self-disapproval. Hershel bent over and touched her forehead. The fever was still mild.

"Are you strong enough to sit?"

"If I go slow... maybe," she confessed almost against her will and, with Hershel's assistance, she sat on the bed. The old man used that opportunity to present Eleanor her 'prince-charming'... a bowl of noodle soup. She eyed the beverage suspiciously, she reluctantly took the spoon on her hands and put it inside the bowl. "Has everyone eaten already?"

 

This time, Hershel didn't hide his smile. He nodded and Eleanor started eating.

 

"When was the last time you have eaten?" she raised her shoulders nonchalantly, "Well... when was the last time you've slept?"

"It has only been two days, Hershel... I've pulled all-nighters before" she sulked... her pout evident even while eating in earnest.

"It has been three," Eleanor frowned confused, "Oscar told me that you did a night shift before the incident,"

"Oh no... I didn't. It only lasted three hours, Carl convinced me to call it a night and so... I did." Eleanor shifted to get more comfortable in the bed... she grimaced. "it's not too bad, I'll be up an going in two hours so you should really go back-"

"Nonsense. I'll stay..." he began with a determined tone.

"Hershel..."

"I'll stay. You'll have to drag me out yourself otherwise, and we both know you are too tired for that." he joked, and Eleanor let out her breath in defeat, but still... she smiled.

"You stubborn old man,"

"You stubborn young woman," she giggled, more animated. But against her will, her eyes were heavy and each time she blinked... it became more difficult to do so. Hershel noticed, and took the soup and helped her lay down again. "Rest,"

"You have Oscar... have him help you. And for God's sake, cover your mouth, people are learning to cough on their sleeves but sometimes they can't help it."

"Rest," he insisted and Eleanor made a face "I've done this long before you."

 

Hershel smiled... this scene made him remember his own daughters. That thought was easily followed by another, that Eleanor had to have a reason... a personal reason to do all of this. True, when he insisted over and over to help her, he was not only thinking of the people inside... but also of Maggie and Beth. They were all he had left now, and God was merciful enough to spare them this misery... they were both out of danger. He wished to help... or rather, he wished to participate to ensure that the disease was eradicated for good, that the plague never reached the walls of the administrative block... that his daughters remained safe. He knew a feisty and serious teenager, one with a sheriff hat... that meant everything to Eleanor, even if she wasn't ready to accept it. He saw her risk her life for him too many times before, even if there was no family link or responsibility... and Carl was just the same.

 

He moved to ask, but noticed that Eleanor was again out like a light. She must have assumed that she could stay awake two nights in a row... and maybe young people did... but that was when you didn't have that much pressure or work... or anxiety. Eleanor had them all... she had been tirelessly taking care of every single patient. Before Caleb got ill she was charged to find out what the disease was, and after he got ill she took care of everything else. The people inside were all well fed, there was always disposable water to drink and the kerchiefs and even some sheets were clean. They were all well treated. How come the people that were outside just started to assume that Eleanor did nothing and let these people here to die... it still bothered him enough to grit his teeth. He got up, and walked around the hallways, picking up his thermos of tea. He passed by the cell that acted as a storage room, and noticed that there it lied a respirator, with tube and everything.

Hershel frowned, confused. Eleanor hadn't used it before, or it was the last one. The pleurisy was quite fast, and the time the respirator might win for other people was limited... maybe she didn't see the point. Nevertheless, Hershel entered the cell and came out with the respirator in hand. These people were running out of chances, maybe it was time to take desperate measures. 

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

Eleanor let herself drift from the real world eyeblink... by eyeblink. Hershel's voice was a soft lullaby. She knew that if she let herself lay down, even for only a minute, she wouldn't be able to get up again. That's how tired she was. And yet, her body made that decision for her, and betrayed her in the worst moment... at the last lap before the end of the race. It was only some hours until Daryl would come with the medicines, it was almost night time... they had to be close and now she wouldn't be able to see through it herself.

And yet, somewhere inside her, she was grateful. She was grateful Hershel was more stubborn than her, to the point that she had to go the extra mile to get things done her way. That sounded just wicked, that's why she didn't like positions of leadership in the first place... given her the option, she'd rather do everything the way she thought was the most logical or efficient.

But now, now she had a break. A small break. She didn't feel like she deserved it just yet, but she also knew she was not going to be of any use as she was. So she let herself sink... like if she jumped in a lake of dark, moveless water. Normally this would scare her, but she felt nothing... she didn't want to feel anything. For an hour... she wished to just stop existing.

And just like that... with that last thought on her mind, she fell asleep. 

So then, she was sinking, the dark water around her making her fall slowly. Her feet soon touched the bottom, even an endless like a marble floor. Eleanor looked up, she was breathing underwater... but it was a dream, she didn't give much thought about it. On the other side, on the surface shone the light of a large silver moon. It was the only light that illuminated the space around her. As a reflector of some sort, it only served to clear the space that was just some meters away from her. She looked around, her eyes heavy and her posture relaxed, she was alone... but she didn't feel she needed to be accompanied. She had been alone for a long time. She closed her eyes, trying to forget herself in the eternal silence and couldn't help what wonder if it felt like this when you died. 

Little whispers made her open her eyes again, her head moved slowly, her hair floated around her due to the water. From between the shadows, a silhouette approached. Eleanor would have felt apprehension, but she concluded it didn't matter here... at the bottom of the lake. Her eyes focused on the figure and finally, the silver light allowed her to look into the face of her mother. She was just as she wished to always remember her, young and smiling, eyes warm and welcoming. Eleanor smiled but didn't move. The figure of her mother didn't move either. They stared at each other for a couple of minutes. Then... Eleanor decided it was not enough. She walked forward, the water around her made her movements slow. As she walked forward her eyes focused again... her smile, step by step, disappeared. When she took her first step, her mother stopped smiling; on the next step, she looked sad, older and pale. On the third, a red spot appeared on her mothers head. By the time Eleanor noticed this she stopped, and blood began pouring out of it. She frowned in confusion, not comprehending how she got that injury in her head. 

 

 

                        "Mom..."

**You need to wake up,**

                        "Why... mom?"

**Wake up,**

It was an ultimatum, she understood. Suddenly she started floating. Her first instinct was to use her arms to swim and push downwards... back to where she was. As if there was a water current, she was lifted regardless of her efforts. She wished to scream for her mother to help her... to reach for her and keep her down there, but when she opened her mouth.... this time around, a gash of bubbles came out of it and she struggled to breathe. Eleanor grabbed her neck in confusion, it hasn't posed a problem to her before. She kept going towards the surface... and when she reached it she woke up. It was still dark, and the clang of her coat against a metal chair was the most prominent sound on her ears. 

 

That is... until she noticed the soft growlings coming closer to her... and the shadow that loomed over her head. 

 

 

In a jump, Eleanor sat up and struggled to crawl to the corner of the bed, opposite to the walker that launched to attack her. Still not completely aware of her surroundings, she fell to the floor, the pain on her bottom made her flinch and gain more focus. She struggled to slide up and stand against a wall. The walker was steadily coming towards her, and she was trapped. Not being capable of thinking any more suitable options, she rushed forward and tackled the walker to the ground. They both fell, and Eleanor scrambled to straddle it, grabbing both it's wrists and crossing them over its chest. The Walker tried to get up and bite her, but the weight she was using over him and the reduced hands prevented him to do so. That's when the light of the hallway outside shone through and she could recognize its face. 

 

It was Caleb. 

 

She looked around, searching for her coat. The thing had fallen to the ground with the metal chair in all the commotion. Careful not to release her weight from under her, she stretched her leg and pulled the coat to her. Dead Caleb squirmed under her and Eleanor almost sat over him when she had to use one arm to reach the coat and search inside. She gave out a cry of triumph when she found it. Not waiting for any second longer, she pierced the small knife on the temple and twisted it for good measure. The walker stopped moving, and she released the wrists and crawled back until she reached the corner of the bed. She closed her eyes, her whole body trembling, her ragged breathing barely able to procure her some oxygen. Her vision was blurry for a second, the adrenaline was slowly wearing off and leaving her in the state she had been prior to all of this... on the verge of collapse, again. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the bloodied face of Caleb in a mix of guilt and pain.  

She needed to know what happened. Using the bed and the wall for support, she got up one more time. she walked over the corpse and reached the door, she swayed. Frowning she put her hand over her forehead... the fever was still there. She stumbled over the exit and onto the hallway. 

It was deserted, which made no sense at all. There wasn't an attack of walkers, or screams or panic or anything. There were some sounds of coughs and nothing else. Where were Hershel and Oscar? She looked up to see the black man was on the second floor... she couldn't spot Hershel anywhere. Trepidation took over her and she raised her voice to call for the veterinarian, but only the first syllables came out before she gave out a cough; her throat rasped and she realized how dry it was. A sudden chill traveled down her spine, followed by a rush of panic and denial. She needed water... she only needed some water.

She walked to the center of the hallway in slow strides. Another thing that she wasn't used to was to see the doors of the cell closed. Maybe Hershel decided it would be wise to keep them all closed, she thought the same. When she finally reached the table with the disposable cups and hot water, she served herself some and drank in pure bliss.  Her throat thanked the fine treatment, and Eleanor cleared it... glad to feel that she could speak again. She gave another look around feeling she was regaining her forces. 

 

 

"What are you doing here?"

The man turned abruptly to look at her, maybe he hadn't expected to see her that night... maybe he hadn't expected to see her at all. That seemed to push a button. Eleanor frowned, walking closer to the stranger. This man, maybe one of the latest newcomers, was inside a cell of a teenager she had been treating. She looked him over, he wasn't sick. "Who let you in?"

"What... can't I visit my son?" he answered with hate and a tad aggressively. Eleanor frowned confused and looked at the prison door, it was closed. It must have been Hershel. She gritted her teeth, all niceties were long thrown to oblivion.

"No, you can't. He has a contagious disease and now you will risk spreading it once you decided to go back with the healthy people." She began with a tired and stressed tone. The pressure on her head was an annoying buzz now. "Look, you've already seen him; I just need to check on him now and you can visit him again tomorrow" 

"Who are you to tell me what to do? It's my right to be here, and I'm staying!" he raised his voice, a cruel smirk appearing on his face "As I'm going to trust him again to you! what have you done for them until now? Nothing!?"

 

 

"Fuck you."

"Excuse me!" the man screamed outraged. 

"You heard right. Fuck. you.!.... I don't give a fuck what you fucking morons think! I know what is right... and I'm not going to allow you or any more dumbasses to spread the disease and fuck up all our efforts to isolate it!?" she seethed, her voice a deadly whisper.  "Who do you think you are! Coming here and doing what you fucking please?! Saying shit about me and my work!"  

Finally, the man looked taken back. Eleanor took that opportunity to walk past him and into the cell he was in, just to see if his son was 'mistreated' or not and to further prove her point. she didn't care to keep peace anymore. But, before she could pass the threshold, the arm of the man, appeared from the side and closed the door right on her face. She turned to him with a murderous glare, one that the man shared. 

"Let me in."

"He's resting."

Eleanor did her best to not bare her teeth, she hadn't felt this antagonized in a long, long time... and adding the headache and the fever, her actions, and words were at odds with her self-control. 

"You said I was neglecting them, Fucking fine! I'll show you how neglected they are. Step aside!"

 

"No!" Eleanor grabbed the side of the metal door to slide it open, the man beside her did the opposite action. They struggled for a moment, the voice of Hershel coming to them didn't stop their wrestling. In the end, it wasn't that much of a fight, Eleanor was still weak and unstable due to her fever, she was pulled back in one movement. Eleanor, fueled by her anger, tried to jump and restart the struggle... But then, the word froze. She looked ahead of her. She was at arms lenght of him, the cold barrel of the gun almost touching her forehead. She could see Hershel from the corner of her eyes now... he had his arms up in surrender. 

"Please son... it doesn't have to be like this," Hershel began in a wary tone. Both the man and Eleanor were panting, both because of the struggle. The tore his gaze away from the young woman only a moment to look at Hershel but returned to their prey. Eleanor blinked a couple of times, her vision had black spots from time to time; her head buzzed with a tingling sound that made her mad, her temples pulsed as if a hammer was being jacked against them over and over again. 

She leaned against the cold barrel of the gun. The action startled the man, who faltered and backed away until his back hit the metal door. Eleanor swayed. Her eyes focused again and took in the man pointing a gun at her... he was pointing a gun at her; because she wanted to do her job. Anger coiled on the pit of her stomach, it rose to the surface one more time and she glared. 

"Come on!" she screamed in ire. The man wide-eyed at her, his own anger forgotten due to the erratic and scary behavior of the woman. 

"You crazy bitch..." he murmured. 

"Put that gun down. Eleanor... Eleanor, you are burning up," she heard Hershel say behind her. She had her gaze still focused on the trespasser. She could feel the old man grabbing her by the shoulders. The young woman was about to comply... but then.... then. 

A pair of pale hands appeared from the bars of the metal door, they stretched and grabbed on the first thing they could... the man that was against it. Eleanor leaped forward. 

 

The sound of gunfire erupted in the hallway like the one of thunder. 

Eleanor looked up and desperately searched with her fingers the safety button on the weapon. she actioned it just in time, the man pulled the trigger as a muscle reflection, his screams of agony put the whole building in alert. Eleanor took the gun out of his hands while the walker that was on the other side of the metal door feasted on the shoulder blade of what had been its father. She turned the weapon and lifted the security before aiming at the creature and firing. The arms stopped moving, the trembling and sobbing man slid down the door. He gasped and cried in pain while trying to stop the profuse bleeding on his upper shoulder. Another gunfire was heard and the man stopped moving, a stream of blood pouring out of his forehead. 

Eleanor turned to Hershel, this one looked in a mix of fear and disapproval. But before he could have his say in any of these happenings, more screams echoed through. Eleanor should have known then that Caleb and this kid couldn't be the only walkers around. Two more appeared downstairs.... maybe more would appear too. 

She couldn't believe this happening... again. 

"There's a shotgun under Caleb's bed," Hershel turned to her in confusion "He turned too, it safe to go and get it..."

"But... you,"

"I'll cover your back." she finished curtly. Hershel was turning to go when they heard a scream and they both looked up. On the veranda of the second floor was Lizzie, outside of her cell and crawling back in panic while a walker had fallen and was trying to grab her foot. Eleanor cursed and turned to the walkers she could see. She fires once... twice, she took down one of the walkers with two bullets. Hershel looked at the stairs in dismay, Eleanor walked over to him and gave him her pocket-knife, not assuming he had one of his own. "Go... I'll help Lizzie... Go!" she urged him and then climbed the stairs. 

 

She tried to climb them two at a time at first, but her energy was burning out too fast. She panted and saw the black spots over her vision again... however she opted to climb the stairs in a haste... one at a time, not daring to stop. She reached the second floor and looked at Oscar for a moment, he was torn between moving and helping Lizzie himself. For a brief moment recognized the features of Glenn, unconscious and covered in blood, before she turned to run over Lizzie. With all the strength she had, she grabbed the shirt of the walker and yanked him backward. She growled die to the effort, it opposed all the possible resistance. So then, she looped her arms around its shoulders to move him backward and away from the little girl. Lizzie kept on crying as she got up and looked at the scene. Eleanor turned and threw the walker down the floor as if it was a rice sack. Eleanor lifted her gun and fired... but nothing came out. The gun wasn't fully loaded. She cursed and threw it to the side. She turned and swayed for a moment, before forcing her eyes to focus on the girl. She was alright... and she was holding a knife on her hands. Eleanor walked to her. 

"Liz... I need you to go to your cell... now!" she ordered after taking the knife out of the girl's hands. Coming out of her shock, Lizzie noticed what Eleanor did and tugged her by her shirt. 

"No! Wait! don't hurt him!" she pulled, and Eleanor turned around, frowning confused. 

"What?..." she tried to break free but Lizzie hugged her form the waist. 

"He's Henry! Don't hurt him! He's my friend!"

Eleanor didn't have time for this. She tried to break herself free form Lizzies grip. When she finally did so, she grabbed the little girl by the arm and forcefully pushed her inside a cell. Locking it from the outside. The girl screamed out of her lungs and Eleanor only backed away, not understanding what just happened. She was tired, she was feverish and disoriented. Eleanor heard growls too close to her ear and jumped back, putting her arms in front of her, opening her hands to grab onto something... they grabbed the walkers arms. The thing snapped its jaws at her and struggled to get closer. Eleanor was seeing spots again and her strength was leaving her. She tried to push the walker away from her but she felt herself turning... then she lost her footing. 

They both went over the metal veranda and onto the empty space. Eleanor instinctively closed her eyes, the void that filled her stomach almost made her sick. Then, she felt a burning sensation on her back... on her arms and neck. She looked beside her and exhaled loudly at the realization she had fallen onto the protective net just over the stairs.  

"Oscar!" She heard Hershel scream from under her. That's when she remembered she was not alone on the net. The walker rolled over her to ret beside her,  and she could see the knife had landed on its chest. She didn't wait another second.... and pulled the knife out only to carve it back at the creature's head. It stopped growling. 

Panting she let herself rest over the net and looked up. Oscar was still hunched over on the corner. Eleanor squinted her eyes and now understood, he was holding a respirator... Glenn had reached pleurisy and they had tubed him to keep him alive. 

She thought it was all over... Then a snapping sound distracted her. 

 

She felt herself falling. 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

It had been at least one more gunshot after the one he heard.

 

The second had bee when they were going downstairs and reached the inner yard. Then it was all silent. His father and he were going to the fences.

"You think they'll be alright? Dad... what about Elle?" Carl asked in apprehension.

"We haven't heard more gunshots... they must have things under control...."

"Dad you don't know that... maybe if we send Maggie... or Andrea"

"When we take their place I will," he ended. Carl looked over the fences and noticed a blond head and lots of but three logs containing them. Maggie and Andrea were working on the left side, one of the hallways that had a direct connection to the inner yard. Carl let out his breath... his worry over the Blocks wasn't gone... but he was willing to help. The went through the sentinel post and greeted Maggie and Andrea. But then, his bothered face turned into one of surprise and fear. The logs that were in a diagonal position looked curved... dangerously so. He understood.

 

"It's going to collapse..."

"What?"

"Dad! The logs are going to break!" he turned to the women "Get out of there!" in seconds... it happened. The sound of wood splinting was all they needed, one lug broke... almost like a twig under the heavyweight. His father ran past him. Maggie and Andrea yelped and backed away from it. Only seconds later the fence gave away. Carl stopped dead in his tracks. Maggie and Andrea ran away scared, going to the sentinel post. Carl didn't think it over, he ran back and opened the door. Maggie and Andrea ran back inside, after some urging, his father went in too and they closed the door.

One thump after the other, the metal door rattled from the sound of dozens and dozens of walkers, walking through the fenced hallway and accumulating at the other end of the sentinel post.

"Come on," he said, opening the door to the other side. Andrea and Maggie moved to barrel the second door, the one that lead to the inner yard. But soon Carl knew that it wasn't going to be enough. The walkers accumulated at a frightening rate. They soon were too many to be on the narrow passage the fenced hallway was, and they began going against the inner fence... the only real barrier was going to go down in minutes... maybe less. He turned to look at his father, who apparently was thinking the same.

"We need to move the school bus to block the entrance" he suggested. Carl frowned.

"But... will it hold?" he sincerely doubted it would. his father looked at the rapidly bunging fence and back at his son, he made a defeated face and urged him to move. he also called for Andrea and Maggie and these two followed.

They didn't go far, actually some steps away, where the carts with the weapons were. His father pulled out a group of machine guns and assault rifles. Then he motioned Andrea, Maggie and himself to tuck their pockets with ammunition. Then they returned to the walkers. Carl listened carefully while his father explained how to use the weapon. It wasn't as complicated as he expected, only the fact that a machine gun tended to fire faster the longer you puller the trigger. he doubted he would be able to keep the hold of his gun once this happened though; so as they prepared and waited for the walkers to tumble down the only fence that separated them, Carl repeated to himself to keep the rounds short.

As he predicted, it only took some seconds. The fence gave in and the walkers fell over it like some sort of limb river He didn't wait for a signal, and started firing. Firing a machine gun was close to firing a rifle, the power of it could make you stumble if you weren't careful. Some few reflectors aided them to point at the head, but it was still more difficult in the dark. Between the four, though, they were taking the walkers rather fast. Carl had hopes that this would turn out good enough for them. But then, he heard it.

 

The sound of a shotgun firing.

He wasn't sure how he heard it over the barrel of sounds around him. Maybe because it echoed when there was a pause that Andrea used to recharge, she wasn't afraid to go all out on the trigger. As if waiting to reassure himself, he stopped firing and turned his head around. Then, he heard it again. His concentration on the present task faltered. His head was barreled with several questions... What if they didn't have everything under control?... Maybe it was in Death Row... maybe Eleanor needed help. He was outside, he had to do something... he had to see her, he had to make sure she would be alright. This time around, he had to be there.

 

He looked back at the firing Andrea, Maggie, and Rick. They didn't notice he stopped firing. The walkers were now not that many, they had taken care of the worst part... he wouldn't make a difference.

 

With that idea on his mind and a sudden leap of faith he turned around and raced to reach Block A, and Death Row.

 

 

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

Rick felt his shoulder was tacked on like a meat grinder, and was sure after this he would be sporting a prominent and proud green bruise all over it. Nevertheless, he didn't stop... they were so little left now. He noticed that at some point his son had stopped firing, Maybe he hurt too... maybe he ran out of bullets, or had some kind of issue. Sadly, Rick didn't think he could help him now. There were not many walkers left, his input on the task wouldn't make much a difference at that point. Still, he tried to look to his left, only a glance, to know he was alright.

 

Carl wasn't there.

 

Now Rick turned fully, he was no longer firing. Andrea called for him, asked what was wrong, but Maggie urged her to keep firing. Rick cursed under his breath, he couldn't search for him now... where ever his teenage son went... but he'll have a piece of it later. He turned to keep firing. It felt like hours, but only some minutes passed before it all ended. At least half a hundred walkers were on the ground. But some grunts could be heard.

 

"Use the barrel to pierce the heads, make sure not even one of them stands," he says, walking over the corpses and beginning the process.

"Where did Carl go?" asked Maggie suddenly. Rick shook his head, not knowing either. "Maybe... maybe he went to see what those gunshots were..."

Rick berated himself for not thinking of that sooner. He bared his teeth in annoyment. He wouldn't dare, he could get sick.... he could be that careless.

 

 

But he could. Rick knew.

"Can you finish this... I'll go search for him" he began, but was interrupted by a loud mix of cry and laughter. he turned to the source, Andrea was the one laughing.

"Oh my god.... oh my god" She repeated, Rick and Maggie turned to search for what she was looking out, and noticed with a huge amount of relief that a pick up was getting closer to the door. The medicines, they made it.

 

Rick, Andrea and Maggie rushed forward, they opened the doors in a haste and the vehicule was soon inside. The door opened, and the first thing that came out was Tyreese, asking over and over again for Sasha. Rick apologised, not knowing how she was, praying that she was still alive. Daryl walked out soon after, carrying a large bag with him, Bob on his toes. Michonne stepped down last and she shared a look with Rick.

 

Not sure why, but that look made Rick feel sure that everything would be alright now.

 

Together, they walked the way to Block A. Andrea volunteered to stay behind and take care of the remaining walkers. Daryl almost ran over there, but everyone was following at a rapid pace. They walked through the hallways and reached the entrance of Death Row. Rick never suspected that somethings were amiss... or that the people around him stopped moving. He only decided to stop when he saw Tyreese standing in the middle of the hallway, his hands up.

Then Rick started to notice his surroundings. There was a collective sound of whimpers and sadness... then he noticed the corpses lying on the floor. He noticed Hershel, loosely graving a shotgun in his hands.

Then he saw a machine gun forgotten on the floor. Then he saw the body of Eleanor, unconscious, a small halo of blood was forming on her head.

 

Then he saw his son, kneeling beside the young woman, his face a grimace of despair, his eyes watery, his gun pointing at the door.

 

He let his gun fall beside him, only then... he rushed forward.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So good! ... So sad... but so good!!
> 
> The curtain falls (Pun intended) and it is the end of the sickness ark!... We finish in an awful note: People die (Not as many as they should but meh) The medicines arrive, perhaps a little late. Eleanor is seriously injured and it was Carl who saved the day! (I don't want to be Eleanor when she wakes though).  
> So many things happening! ... the people in the prison gave onto paranoia and thought Eleanor was mistreating the sick... seems tacked on but actually, it has happened many times throughout history. That could be their final downfall; and a concept about large surviving groups and leadership that will be important to the plot later (keep that in mind). 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> See you soon ;)


	8. In the eye of the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and his team finally arrived at the prison with the medicines to use against the disease. But was it too late?  
> An outbreak of walkers attacked death-row, and it was up to a weakened Eleanor, Hershel and Oscar to protect the people and kill the menace.

 

 

 

 

 

> _"Is she going to be okay? Is it a concussion?"_
> 
> _"She had a concussion yes... But the bleeding is not because of that. Maybe, when she was falling, her head grazed against a metal corner or something and cut a vessel. It is superficial-"_
> 
> _"But why isn't she waking up?"_
> 
>  

Indeed, it has been too long for Rick's liking. He sighed, passing his hand over his head, ruffling his hair in both a tired and worried motion. The rays of the sun were high and shining that morning, it could easily be midday now... But many people around him hadn't even tried to sleep yet.

 

It had been Bob's and Hershel's responsibility to distribute the antibiotics and other medicines to the sick people. Rick wished it would have had a better outcome, but the reality was cruel. Some people were beyond the point of saving, even the antibiotics didn't do much of a difference, pleurisy still happened and they died. The ones that had been stabilized, however, reacted favorably to the treatment. One of these people was Glenn, who had been to close to dying. If Rick were to walk back to Block A and check on his friend he would find Maggie, sat beside the bed. She had been there since late night and hadn't moved... many gave the couple privacy. Sasha had also been a relief; Tyreese ran to his sister's side and also never moved from there. She had resisted more than anyone else did... and the treatment acted on her better than expected. She was sitting up and eating on her own now, the remnants of the fever completely gone, leaving her only a tad exhausted. 

Because of that and only of that he had allowed her to be present when they were confronted by the healthy people, she had defended Eleanor's actions with a passion and energy unknown to him... it made him feel proud. He knew for sure he wouldn't have been able to do something similar... at least in the same pacific terms. Daryl had to hold him down when he almost pointed his gun to a very demanding woman. The night had been long and many truths had come out... maybe too many. 

 

All night he had been trying to put things back in order... along with Andrea and unflagging Oscar. That's how, little by little, certain things reached him. It left them with a feeling of outrage, resentment and most importantly... guilt. Eleanor had purposely disconnected the whole world from the sick people inside Death Row. Still, the management of food and water had been incredible, the sick people were all well fed and they always had water to drink. Hershel didn't stop repeating that given she wasn't that diligent to keep their forces, they would have perished long before Daryl arrived with the medicines. They did all on their power, Bob noted that she and Caleb tried their best to use any possible medicine to control pain, stop fever and even make the residents sleep. Oscar was adamant to say that she would keep doing stuff all the time, that she jealously kept her duties to herself, and not only made sure people didn't spread the disease between them... but also that Oscar was well protected when he was helping her. 

 

That's why he didn't understand how people came to the conclusion that Eleanor was the cause people kept on dying... and that she had been neglecting them, not caring at all. 

 

Hershel tried to explain it to him... that these people reacted the way the did out of pain and panic; that in a similar situation he would have done the same. Rick preferred to not think too much about it and ignore anything that reached his ears... though it was more difficult than he imagined. Once the quarantine was lifted, havoc followed. In a matter of minutes, people were coming inside Death Row and asking for their friends, sisters, wives, husbands... sons. The screams of pain that soon followed were accompanied by the undeniable truth that some were already dead and burnt. Eleanor had been taking the corpses to one of the inner backyards of the building, and just like Carol had done... she had been continuously burning them. Many people protested, the ones that called for their loved ones and could not even see them one more time... they blamed Eleanor. Maybe that outrage was the cause of something close to a sublevation, some accused her of having killed Caleb, the only one that could put a stop to it. Others said that she had menaced Oscar to say nothing, even if this one defended her actions with an iron will. In between discussions and uncertainty, some people sneaked over to Block C, where Eleanor had been moved. It's possible they weren't aware that she was unconscious, but they went regardless. That's when it all got worse... that's when he intervened again, putting himself between enraged strangers and an over-stressed Carl... holding them all at gunpoint. Rick was restless... not sure if he wished to know if his son could fire anyone that tempted to threat Eleanor or not. But a little voice, one that sounded much like Carl himself, repeated in his head that he had done it before and that even if he understood it wasn't right...  he would do it again. From that point on not only the teenager was on constant alert... Daryl also installed himself beside the woman's cell, standing guard. 

 

 

 

> _"But... what will happen? Has she hit her neck... her back? Won't that have consequences?" Maggie asked in a nervous whisper._
> 
> _"We can't know for sure now... her right leg is swollen... she could have a sprain, but to know for sure if there had been... more serious consequences, we have to wait for her to wake up..." Bob cut his phrase short, the rest was implied. Meaning she would tell them if she could or could no longer feel her legs or her whole body._
> 
> _"And... and the disease... does she have it?"_
> 
> _"We gave her the medicines regardless... so it should be controlled"_

 

 

It tore him apart, how things had gotten so out of hand so fast. When he arrived inside Death Row that night he couldn't understand what happened... why Carl wouldn't let anyone close to her. He thought Oscar would explain but it was Hershel who did. Eleanor fainted that afternoon when the old veterinarian went to demand to be allowed to help her. They were afraid it was the sickness... Hershel believed it was only lack of food and sleep. Rick asked angrily why didn't they say a thing, Oscar had to confess what the people on block D were saying... they decided to let her rest and drop the bomb the next day early in the morning. Then, some people broke in, forcing Hershel to allow some of them to look over their sick family members. That's when all hell broke loose... Eleanor woke and confronted one of them... a man, taking care of this older son. In response to this, the man pulled out a gun and threatened her with it... no one knew then, but many had quietly died and turned into walkers, the man was attacked and Eleanor pulled the gun away to prevent a stray bullet to hit someone else. That's what he and Carl had heard when they were at the Administrative Block. He continued his explanation saying that they split, that Lizzie was in danger and he wouldn't be able to climb the stairs on time, so Eleanor did... fought the walker, lost her footing and fell over the metal security net. She managed to take down the walker... but the struggle damaged the net welding, and it gave out. She unceremoniously fell and hit the side of the stairs, she was already unconscious when she rolled down the last steps. Hershel finished by saying that only some minutes passed before Carl arrived. The teenager used the machine gun to take out the two walkers that remained and he threw the gun aside... kneeling before the young woman, calling her name with a broken voice, asking the old man what had happened to her. That's how Rick and the others found him. He wasn't sure what was going through his son's head at that moment, but he didn't trust the young woman to anyone ever since. 

 

He sighed, the guilt only made itself bigger and bigger. He had lied to him, and this happened. He had decided to stay in the periphery and get involved as little as possible and this happened. His son hasn't directly talked to him ever since. 

 

Rick walked back to Block C, where his room originally was. He walked past it and down to one that was adorned with a rose-patterned curtain. Rick noticed Daryl sitting on the stairs beside it... making arrows. The man lifted his gaze and when he noticed it was only him... he resumed his past-time. Rick leaned on the wall next to the entrance. From there he saw a sheriff hat, left to rest on the corner of the bed. His son was giving him the back, his eyes never leaving the resting face of the young woman... Rick only took a small moment to do the same. The stained bandage that circled around her head irked him... he looked somewhere else. 

 

"Hey," he greeted, his son slightly turned his head to his father's direction, but said nothing, and returned to its former position. "Has she woken up yet?"

 

"Not yet,"

Rick cleared his throat, "I'm going to check on the crops... they could have food we can use. You could use the exercise, stretch your legs"

Daryl huffed and Rick threw him a glare. A hiss of breath made him turn his attention back to Carl. 

"Will Daryl stay here?" 

"I will," the man looked at Rick. It unnerved him how amused his friend looked... it wasn't entertaining to have your son angry at you, and what was worse... that you knew he had all the right to be.

Carl took another couple of minutes to decide. He got up when he did... and Rick noticed how his son's hand reluctantly let go of Eleanor's; his heart ached. The teenager then moved to grab his sheriff hat. He walked out of the cell while putting on the hat. Not even once he lifted his gaze to look at his father. Rick took a deep breath and refrained to comment on anything, just followed him. 

Outside, things didn't look as bad as they really were. There were some people here and there, mostly trying to organize things as they were before quarantine. Sometimes Rick wondered what would have been if the isolation had lasted longer than it had. He looked down and caught his son's expression. He was looking at some people that walked by with a murderous glare. Some gave him back the sentiment, some tried their best to ignore it. This time around, Rick sighed... it was Carl at the end of last year all over again, unwilling to trust any of the new people settling inside the prison, assuming everyone was dangerous and not worth their time. They had finally arrived at the fence that took them to the field. He glanced at Oscar and Andrea, that were doing their best to move and take away the walkers that died yesterday night. He tried to spot Michonne or Hershel, but they were not on the courtyard... maybe they were taking the corpses outside. 

"Dad,"

 

He turned, without noticing, he had stopped... and Carl was waiting for him with the door of the fence open. He walked over to him and together they arrived at the crop. He thanked circumstances that Carol had been taking care of water as long as she did, that also meant to share at least some of it with their emergency food source. He couldn't avoid the pang of guilt that came with the thought of her... but it was a necessary desition. It had been unpleasant too. Rick tried this best not to mention it... as much as Daryl did; the man at first was in a fit of rage, but when Rick explained his reasons, that anger turned into resentment, denial and finally acceptance. He couldn't let Carol stay and confront Tyreese, the man would not wave from seeking justice, not even for her... he was sure of that. 

 

Not wasting any time, Carl took a basket and began inspecting the plants; harvesting those who looked good enough to eat and leaving be those that could use another couple of days. Rick wanted to use this time alone with his son to talk to him... Explain why things happened the ways they did, but it was clear the teenager would have none of it... Or at least, wouldn't waste any precious time waiting for Rick to decide. So then, here went nothing. 

"Carl, I also brought you here because... Because I wanted you to understand, " he paused again, his son turned his light blue eyes for half a moment before resuming his task. Rick wondered how Lori could talk Carl into things but then concluded with some regret that since she passed Carl had been more private and distrustful. He had tried, he thought that in the past ten months he had done some progress...but maybe he had missed something. "I want you to understand that what Eleanor did, was something that needed to be done-"

"What is that 'something' dad? Asking you to tell me she was doing alright when she wasn't?" The boy snapped. His father gave him a look and the straight shoulders fell a little in defeat. "Sorry, " he begrudgingly added after a while. 

 

"Yes, that... Among other things. What good would have done to scare you and the other children about the real situation? What good would it have made to update the names of the dead hour after hour... Eleanor did what she thought was best and maybe she didn't make the right calls all the time, but the outcome was what we needed... What we all needed, "

"I don't need her in a bed with her head almost split open."

"Carl, her head is fine. She just cut the skin and-" but he stopped, choosing not to go too heavy on the details. "Look that's not the point. She cared for what happened to us and the people in the prison..."

"Well I don't, okay. I don't care what the other people wanted or needed. She risked her life and it was meaningless... Because they don't value it. They can't understand it. They don't-!" But the fiery teenager stopped dead in his tracks and looked down. Rick tried to examine his words and the emotions that tried to reach the surface... unable to fully understand them. Still, for a moment, he felt he could try to understand it... But too fast, they were gone. Defiant blue eyes turned to him again,  with a coldness he hasn't seen in ten months. Rick sighed, "These people don't deserve it."

 

"Don't say that... She cared. We cared and you also need to care. These people look to us to survive and keep forward-"

"No, if they can't make the effort to understand what it takes then they shouldn't survive!.... A-and how do you know if she cared! she was there because she assumed leadership... Because our leader had stepped down, you! When the governor attacked you needed a rest and that's why Eleanor and the rest stepped up for you. You took your rest, and now when Eleanor needed the same she was denied that!... Elle should have stepped down too but she didn't. She didn't because there was no one else to replace her... And this happened. Because you were all too scared; you all assumed she could handle everything like she always says she can but we both know that's a lie!... and you did nothing," Carl looked away then, to the field. He sighed and blinked several times, some people around them had heard the teenager's outburst but decided to ignore it. 

 

“Carl look at me,” the teenage resisted the order, when Rick addressed him one more time he relented, his defiant gaze almost made Rick sigh again. “Eleanor is a strong woman,” he began and the young man was already grimacing in disaccord. “She is. Maybe we were all scared, yes we were… because we didn’t understand what was going on, because we didn’t know how to act. She took care of it because she knew… she did. She also made a mistake; she wanted to shield us of how difficult the situation was… When I learned Caleb was… sick, I talked to her; she had no intention of saying anything.”

“And you let her go along with it?” he asked in an accusing tone

“No, we made a council and Oscar went to help her. We made a mistake, she made a mistake. But that’s how we learn to do better, we mess up… we fix it,”

Carl looked down, not saying anything for a couple of minutes. Rick couldn’t deny that it irked him. He was expecting an answer from his son, a confirmation that he understood. He felt out of place, which was ridiculous considering that this was the place he should take first and foremost. Correct his son, know his son. He now understood that the problem back ten months ago wasn’t closed. Back then he thought Eleanor would deal with it but now he understood that the problem started there… when he let someone else handle what was for him to do. He had to be the one to establish the rules, to make things in order. Rick stopped thinking when he felt a weight on his hands. He looked down, startled, to notice the basket with vegetables on it. He looked to his right and Carl was already moving to leave.

 

 

“Where do you think you are going?” Carl stopped, looked behind confused, “This conversation isn’t over,”

“Elle has been alone for too long, I’m going back,” the teenager justified.

“But she is not alone, is she?” the police officer restrained a harsher tone, predicting it would take him nowhere. “I want to know that you agree with me, that you stop blaming Eleanor’s condition on everyone else but her.”

He hit closer to the bullseye. Carl wide-eyed and frowned, his breathing was a little faster.

“It’s not her fault,”

“She’s an adult; she can make her own decisions. In fact, I’m sure she knows that… so now you need to know that it’s not your responsibility to protect her, or your decision to make. And until you understand… you are going to stay here with me.” It took merely a couple of seconds for Carl to take it in.

“You are not listening,”

“No, YOU are not listening. I need you to understand that adults make decisions and children obey and you… are still a child,”

He can’t remember the last time his quiet and obedient child had made a tantrum, but Rick could recognize it the moment he saw It coming. 

Carl clenched his jaw, from his faded t-shirt his pale skin started turning a reddish color. His nostrils dilated, as if taking too much air at once. Thinning his lips, he looked down and nodded with his head; Rick could have found it comical… Even surreal; for he made the same expression when he was pissed and he knew it. The doubt threatened to take hold of him again, to make him think that he was being too harsh or that he had read the situation wrong. But before any of them could try to have this conversation on better terms, a thunderous sound echoed, followed by the earth rumbling and a cloud of dust blinding him. Rick instinctively hugged his son and curled himself around him, closing his eyes tightly.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Carl tried to swallow some saliva, his mouth was dry and with an uncharacteristic earthy flavor. He felt the arms of his father around him, and despite just having an argument, he held on to the larger body as tight as he could. Something was roaring, like the sound that waves made against a rocky surface, or was it the rocks that fell? Screams followed soon after and made Carl nervous. He lifted his head, opening one eye and trying to look past his father’s embrace.

It was a sentinel post, the dust cleared and it stood obliterated. There was really little left of it. Rick let his son go, looking around too. Some people came out with scared murmurs and questions. Carl contained his own issues with them, they were scared… they all were. 

“Stand back!” said Rick to the people that tried to get closer. Carl looked at the sentinel post again and then beyond the field. A group of at least seven cars had lined up in front of the fence; in the middle of them stood a tank.  A real-life tank… and beside the tank stood a man on a leather jacket and an eye-patch.

 

They had to be kidding.

 

“Rick!”

“What the hell was that?” Daryl and Maggie asked, they were followed by Andrea, Tyreese, Beth, Oscar, and even Sasha.  Most of the faces looked in confusion at the strangers on the fence. Others didn’t have to look twice to recognize the person beside them.

“Philip?” asked Andrea, and then she barked a sarcastic laugh, looking away “You have to be fucking kidding me,”

The voice of the man they all knew as the governor was grave, demanding for Rick to talk, negotiate. Carl had never heard it before… Carl had never seen the governor before. It angered him, how the moment they had stopped searching was also the exact moment he had to appear... and not alone.  His father screamed back from where he stood, saying he no longer took the decision around there, that there was a council, that he wasn’t the leader. Carl bit his tongue out of frustration. Things got even worse when the psychotic man pulled out from a car the distinguishable forms of Hershel and Michonne, tied up, and set them to kneel before them. Hostages… they were obliged to comply.

“Rick you have to do something,” Maggie hurried to beg, and Carl understood. Rick nodded and was walking to the fence when Andrea approximated him.

“Rick let me go with you,” his father looked unsure.

“I don’t think he would want to see you again knowing that you should have died,” Sasha commented. Andrea turned to look at her and back at Rick. In the end, she nodded and stepped back. Rick gave a look at Daryl who nodded in agreement, then turned to Carl. He looked back at his father, their discussion long pushed back to a later time. Carl couldn’t lie to himself, this was a mess… it was madness, it was a trap… but they were already trapped. His father reached with his hand for his neck and Carl locked eyes with him.

“It will be alright, we’ll get through this,” Carl looked for a moment longer before answering.

“We have to,” Rick nodded and walked away… through the field and in the direction to the outer fence.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

“It’s your turn love… what do you see?”

 

Eleanor blinked and turned to look at her right. It felt strange, like if she was submerged in water… when she wasn’t.  Her mother gave her a little playful smile, her hair was ruffled, and her face had a little smudge of dirt. Eleanor closed her eyes, unwilling to smile back.

“I’m looking at you mom,” she said when her eyes reopened. The older woman kept on smiling, ever turning much… much tender.

“That… you are,” Eleanor said in a broken whisper, no longer wanting to repeat this scene ever again. It was too soon, it will always be too soon.

“Am I…though? Aren’t you just a product of my memories, my mind?... you really are not here, are you?”  

 

“I remember when your father died, and you kept telling me that you dreamt of him… one week straight. Of how he came back home, hugged you and tried to convince you that he wasn’t dead,” Eleanor nodded, her browns furred, her eyes filling with tears. Her mother mirrored her pained expression, but no tears would come out.

“It’s not a week after mom,”

“No… it’s been two years now. But it’s no different, love. A week… five years… or two. You still won’t allow yourself to grief us. You still blame yourself for our deaths,”

 

They stopped walking, the wind howled, and a long sniff, followed by a whimper cut the space like the sound of a storm. Eleanor rushed to wipe her face clean. Her mother no longer smiled, her eyes filled with worry. Her daughter looked away.

“And of how many other deaths are you going to blame yourself for? Isn’t that why you keep putting yourself in danger? Isn’t that why you are afraid to let people in? …. Love, all this time, nothing had changed what you really feel.”

“I try to keep everybody safe, I try!” Eleanor punched her own chest, though she could barely feel it. Her movements were still so slow, “I do all I can for the people important to me, because I won’t let-“

“Because you don’t want to see them go through what I went,” she cut her off. Eleanor gave her a recriminating look, before looking at the front. “But you can’t save everyone… You can’t save anyone right now. Because you are still on that building in Atlanta… you still wish to not survive.”

Eleanor turned to deny all of what her mother had said. But she was gone again. Not wasting time, she pulled her dagger out, her brain uncharacteristically taking her back at the first time she dreamt this… the nightmare. A whimper came from behind her and with a battle cry, Eleanor turned to attack it… only to halt with wide eyes. Her mother was there, but she was still human. A large wound flooded from her neck… a walker bite. Eleanor let her dagger fall and hugged the older woman as she fell to the ground.

 

 

“You are wrong…. You are,” Eleanor whispered, closing her eyes. The gushing and gurgling sounds of her mother losing blood hurt in her chest. “Because it was. It is my fault… because I was weak. But I’m no longer weak. I don’t have the right to be… I can’t be,” her sobs broke her own words… in her arms, again, the body of her mother felt cold. The light of the sunset on the woods was gone, the woods were gone. Eleanor didn’t need to look around to realize she was again at that rundown factory. The grunts of the walkers outside… she and her mother inside, thirsty and starving. “Because I can’t have people protecting me, dying to protect me. I don’t deserve it… I don’t,”

“And these people you wish to protect,” Eleanor looked at her arms, they were empty. She looked around frantic, the room was also gone. Some bubbles came out of her mouth, she was back to that cold and dark place… filled with water, and her mother was again rotting to a corpse, out of her reach. “Can they ever be your friends, your family, if you don’t open up to them?”

 

Eleanor stood up, or rather… wished to stand her ground. But the pain that showed on her face betrayed her, knowing that those words had hit home. In her mind’s eye, the face… the form of Carl appeared, and her resolve faltered even more. It all crept inside her, threatening to drown her. The fear, the exposure, the pain, and the guilt. The desperation she continuously tried to step down every time he was in danger… the anxiety of one day waking up without him. He was her pain, he was her reason to survive.

“You need to forgive yourself, and keep on living. Love… you need to wake up,” again… a rush lifted her, she started floating. The air left her body, she struggled to remain down.

“Not… yet,” the last bit of air she had left her in large bubbles that rose to the surface.

“You need to let yourself be vulnerable again… Eleanor,”

Eleanor screamed, and the water entered her lungs. She clawed the space around her and it was thick… the movement making little bubbles on it. Then, a deafening sound came,  she was shaken around… as if hit by a wave.

 

She tried to rise up… and immediately regretted it.  

 

Her head felt too big, it hurt. She blinked at least three times before she could stop looking things with a foggy blanket… and even then, something was still completely wrong. Her head didn’t stop hurting. She slowly reached over to touch her temple and her fingertips met the texture of bandages. It didn’t make any sense. Where was she? Where was death row? What day it was?

She coughed, her throat was dry. She could taste something with a copper taste on her tongue, coppery…. And earth-like. That couldn’t be right. The sound of cries and screams made her crane her neck to the door. She regretted that too, it was beyond sore. She groaned and slowly but steadily turned to her side… still searching to look at the entrance. There was a rose patterned curtain. Her brain was finally starting to work again; it felt like it hadn’t worked for way too long. She was in her room, Block C. There was daylight but she possibly didn’t see it before because of the angle she was in…. Daylight, she worked hard to try to remember what time it was before she hit her head. Because she had to hit her head, that’s why she was bandaged.

Then everything humbled again, and her head buzzed. It all was shaking? That couldn’t be right either. She kept hearing screams and now she discerned shadows behind the curtain. She frowned, people in panic…. Did something happen? Willing herself to sharpen up, she sat up. Then she took a couple of breaths, and the struggle it took wasn’t that bad anymore. That was, until she tried to get up, and a sharp pain on her leg made her sit once more. It was her right leg. She tried to stretch… and soon learned that was a bad decision too, her lower back was as sore as her neck. She slowly turned her head to the sides, found her belt with her gun and blade resting beside the bed. With much effort, she stood up to put them on. Then she heard it…

 

Gunfire.

 

Her brain was working faster. She took care to kneel and look down her bed. She bit down her blinding pain and reached for the metal box that contained her handgun, a shotgun and ammunition. They were under attack… how did that happen? She wasn’t sure. Maybe the fence gave out and the walkers got their way inside, but then she remembered the rumbling sound, the ground shaking. That couldn’t be done by any heard of walkers. Something else was happening.

“Ow… Fuck,” she cursed, having gotten up and limping to the entrance. Her leg hurt… she couldn’t put her weight on it.

The hall was nowhere near empty. Some people tried to drag the sick out of their beds and to the main exit. But that made no sense either… why were the sick on Block C? She had no time to think about the answer.  Someone came over to her and seized by the arm, she fought it at first… and noted that she was still looking at things with a foggy blanket.

“Elle…. Hey, hey. Its okay, let me carry you come on…” Oscar, it was Oscar’s voice. He reached for her legs and back and Eleanor couldn’t hold in a cry of pain. He stopped then, seeing that he was doing more harm than good. Instead, he put her arm around his shoulders, Eleanor sagged against him. It also hurt, but way less than being carried… paradoxically.

“Shotgun…”

“What?”

“On… my back. Shotgun” Eleanor managed to say, her voice sounded weird… she was still thirsty, with the coppery taste on her mouth. “Walkers,”

“No… not walkers. The governor, the governor came…. And attacked us.”

Oh… oh. Well… shit. They had spent a fucking year looking for him, only for him to appear on their most vulnerable moment. Fate could go to fuck herself, because this just was fucking unfair.

“Carl… Judith,” she tugged Oscar’s shirt “Judith… Carl, Judith.”

“Tyreese went for Judith,”

Fuck no… she wanted him to take her to Judith.  And what about Carl, he couldn’t be on the field… he couldn’t be. He hadn’t confronted military men before. He gunned a kid… sure but it was one… inexperienced one. Wait, what had the governor to make the whole prison shake? Grenades?  Other bombs? How did he throw them inside? And why the hell were they fucking running away?

They reached the courtyard. Oscar had little care of how long they could hide. Everything was filled with smoke and dust. People were running in the same direction as them. The sounds drilled in Eleanor’s head, left her disoriented… until she saw it. A tank, taking down the inner fence. That’s all she was able to see, before it fired again.

She felt a stinging pain on her arm, the one that was looped over Oscar’s shoulders. But more importantly, her pain on her back was intense; she tried to breathe and cough. She tasted dust, and a strong weight over her didn’t allow her to breathe. She grunted and struggled to move, using all the force she had in her to push the weight away. It rolled to the side and she tried to sit. Turning to her left she saw Oscar… void look on his face. He was dead. Some bullets hit the ground around her, and she tried her best to crawl to a wall. The rain of bullets continued and pierced Oscar’s move less body… making blood jump and spill up in the air. Eleanor closed her eyes and reached for the shotgun that she had on her back. Using the wall as support, she desperately searched for cover… and tried to look around and spot someone she knew.

She wasn’t completely sure but she thought she saw Glenn and Maggie ran in the direction she and Oscar were going. They were running away. But how to lose the governor. It came to Eleanor in a moment. The school bus… there were going t bail in the school bus. And maybe Judith would be there too... she had to be.

But Carl. Carl would be on the fence, maybe he would fight beside the ones that stayed to buy time and allow the others to scape. But would Rick allow that? Was rick alright?

“Please…. Please,” she walked unevenly to the front, begging to some bigger power to let her reach Carl… at least. To know he was safe.

Her prayer was heard, for once… and she looked to her right, spotting a sheriff hat. He was standing, pointing this rile to something. No, he was shooting, but there were no more bullets inside, couldn’t he notice. Eleanor slowly got closer, and saw that the thing that was on the ground was a walker. Beside it rested a baby’s car seat. Eleanor closed her eyes in defeat… when she opened them again, carl was on his knees, the weapon forgotten beside him. But it couldn’t be… Judith was with Tyreese, she had to be with Tyreese.  She lifted her gaze again, her mouth suddenly gone voiceless. Another walker, and another. The fences were broken, people died… of course, they would be walkers. If they didn’t move they would also die… Carl would also die, she couldn’t allow that. Eleanor lifted her gunshot, and pointed the best she could, she was weak, but she had no other option. Begging Carl wouldn’t suddenly decide to get up and get in her way, she fired. The lashing power of the gun hit her shoulder, already sore and hurting. She let the gun down… and felt weak on the knees.

Eleanor closed her eyes and slid against the wall, she was tired. Too tired. The sound of the gun deafened, her head was still hurting… and humid feeling on her right temple. A tug at her shirt made her open her eyes tiredly… and brown eyes locked with light blue ones. Desperate ones, Carl was screaming something at her, looping her hurt arm around him, Eleanor finished when he tried to lift her, but his legs gave in under him. It would be no use, she was too heavy.

She was too heavy… so she had to help him. She had to make sure he would get out of here… and then she could let go.

 

Her mind was a blur again, the smoke and the smell of brunt bodies was strong. She wasn’t sure how they didn’t encounter many walkers as they walked away. Her ears were fine then, but Carl said nothing… not about Judith, not about Rick. She said nothing either. They limped away by the west side of the prison, they reached the river…. They reached the forest. Eleanor could barely remember that there weren’t many people left to attack them, she couldn’t see the school bus… of if it was gone. They didn’t encounter Michonne… or Daryl. It was only them, the smell of flames, and the sound of walkers.

They left the prison behind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. Yey (I wanted to be back, stressful weeks, I've had.)
> 
> Maybe the most incredible moment of Season 3, the attack at the prison. Fun fact, the way it all developed isn't over. Might come back as flashbacks. 
> 
> Also, I've carefully considered pairing Eleanor with Judith and Carl with Rick like in the series. But then, some ideas came to me and they were too good to resist. I hope I haven't messed up (though as the next chapter is coming up, I regret nothing)
> 
> Hope you like this chapter, and see you soon.


	9. To know you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, we roam again.

 

 ~*~

 

 

 

 

>   _"He's taking too long," Daryl said._
> 
> _"Then perhaps Philip is asking for something outrageous again," Andrea said back. She huffed "Daryl look at them; these people don't look dangerous."_
> 
> _"What could we know, they are with him... aren't they," Maggie's voice trembled, her eyes never leaving the far away form of her father kneeling on the ground._
> 
> _"Just imagine what kind of lies he might have told them about us... this is Woodbury all over again."_
> 
> _Carl gave Andrea credit for that. This situation should not be any different than back ten months ago, and they should react the same way they did back then. But instead, his father was trying to talk things out with 'Philip'... a talk that could barely be heard from their side. Carl looked through the scope of the rifle. They were women and men... all young, all looking at one another in confusion. Maybe Andrea was right... and they were here because of his lies._
> 
> _"I can't take this anymore... I'm going down, and I'm unmasking him for good"_
> 
>  

 

 

It must be something past midday. That meant soon enough, the sun would set and night would be upon them... and they had yet to find shelter.

And Eleanor would have to rest soon. 

After the first half an hour, Carl could no longer carry her weight... even when she helped him do it; so she started walking in her own. After the first hour, she abruptly collapsed on the floor. Her leg was still swollen... and Carl would have noticed if he wasn't walking so far ahead, searching for a safe place to stay. He silently berated himself for that and now took good care to notice when she grew too tired to continue and needed to stop to take a break. 

 

"I think there's a town ahead... not far from here," she said in a silent whisper. 

"Do you feel like you need to take a rest now?"

Eleanor moved her head sideways, considering it. Carl frowned, her limping had been more pronounced for a couple of minutes now. "Either way you should stop. We need to hurry to find a safe place... and we are taking too long,"

"You can go on ahead then, I'll catch up."

Carl gave her a look. After some minutes of silent stare-battle, she sighed... and walked over to lean on a tree trunk. Not long ago, they had a similar discussion... kind of. She was not pleased or ready to accept she was a liability more than an asset... but frankly, Carl could care less right now. 

 

 

"Be right back," he said and walked ahead. Still, thinking that Eleanor would try to walk faster to not be left too far behind, he hurried his steps. Soon, his walking turned into a little trot... Elle's shotgun dangling on his back. He could almost imagine her sulking face and that gave him some relief. 

He hadn't found relief since that morning. 

The smell of corpses on his head had almost driven him insane. It was a morbid fact to recognize that a walker's burning body had not the same odor than the one of a living person. The column of smoke that rose from the prison was a beacon that reminded him and her that they weren't that far away from that place... not really. And maybe that's what annoyed him the most. Because they should have crossed somebody trying to escape, but they haven't. They still were the only survivors. 

Carl stopped running... out of breath. The weight of the guns was heavy on his shoulders and he wasn't that used to running long distances either. Turning to look behind him, he noted he could still see Eleanor... if only barely. So, he turned back around and looked ahead. A clearing beside the road got his attention, and he started walking once again. 

 

 

It was a side road bar. One of those you often saw in action movies... where the groups of motorcycle drivers parked to eat... sleep and have fights. They had finally found something promising. 

Four bikes were parked outside, they looked clean and usable. The thought that there might be living people inside crossed his mind and made him feel uneasy. He sneaked over to the wooden porch and peered through a window... there was no sound of conversation, no rustle that indicated anyone inside. So maybe he was really alone. Carl walked back to the main door and pulled out his handgun. The side thought that he should wait for Eleanor to inspect the place was both brief and easily discarded. She couldn't even be quiet at the moment... and if something really bad happened she could get trapped inside. 

So he opened the door and entered. 

 

Little by little, the place had less promise. It was ransacked, many shelves were empty, tables turned, no food seemed to be left around. There were no corpses either, at least that gave Carl a little relief. It was the large storage room the last place he inspected... and the only place that they could find something they could use. As if on cue, the grunts of a walker welcomed him. The creature was trapped at the other side of a barricade of chairs and tables. He aimed at the creature but thought better of it. He no longer had the silencer he often used one year ago... he wondered what his father did with it. Either way, firing now would call walkers to them and they could pretty say this whole place goodbye. 

He reached over one of the chairs that formed the barricade... and pulled. He expected the whole thing to fall down like a house of cards.... he even prepared to jump back to not get caught in it, but the chair didn't even budge. He used more force... but when the piece of wood started moving... so did the other chairs as if tangled together. After some minutes, Carl's panting merged with the walkers grunting. Nothing came undone. The teenager sighed, resigned to his cruel fate. He walked back to the porch and sat... waiting for Eleanor to arrive. 

 

 

It didn't take long. Maybe he struggled with those chairs longer than he thought... either way, he looked at open space for a couple of minutes before he could hear the uneven steps of Eleanor's limping. There were steady, as her pulse had been that morning. He remembered how she touched his wrist when he was shot... he didn't understand it then, but he did now... how the blood flowing raised the skin that your fingertips touched and told you that way there was still life, that she was fine... that she was only sleeping. 

Then spell was broken when her steps became faster and therefore more erratic. Carl clenched his jaw... thinking that if she fell out of pure dumbness he was not going to desperately run to her side and help her up... not this time. 

"Finally..." she said under her breath, her huffs of exhaustion were loud. Carl stood up when she approximated, she looked at the front porch with a judging stare. "Want to check the inside?"

"It's already done," Eleanor gave him another of those unnerving expressionless looks, "the place has little to offer... except for the storage,"

"Okay," she frowned confused "something wrong?" Carl sighed.

"I need your help,"

 

 

They walked inside and as Carl expected, Eleanor was surprised at the sight of the barricade. Much like him, she took her time to look at the weird construction... and much like him, she tugged one chair only to notice that all of them moved and it took a considerable effort to do so. He decided to cut down the chase... before it was sunset.

"I need you to pull those chairs and set the walker free, so then I can take him down," he explained... but Eleanor was looking around when he did. He frowned "Elle..." 

"We could get trapped with the chairs when they fall,"

"That's why you have to pull and I'll attack... are you listening to me?"

"There has to be another way,"

"There is no other way. We have already lost a lot of time-"

"There is always..." she began while bending down to pick something "another way,". Standing up again, she held a broom on her hand. She smirked while pulling out her dagger. Carl frowned but looked carefully. She carved a sharp end to the broomstick and then held it like a spear, walking to the walker and taking him down without the need to move the barricade. The grunts ended and silence followed. Eleanor let the improvised spear fall beside her and walked to stand in front of the chairs. "Now... we move the chairs,"

Carl looked for a little while before joining her. He hadn't thought of that.... and was sure that if someone had survived with them... wouldn't have thought of that either. But truth was, of course, that no one else had survived. That thought soured him once more. 

Even with the help of Eleanor, moving the chairs proved to be a serious effort. When the chairs finally gave in... there was an avalanche of furniture. The wall came undone with a loud rattle that made them jump back scared.... at least he did. A yelp beside him made him anxious, Eleanor was leaning against a wall for deal life... one of her legs, thank god for the good one, was stuck between two chairs... she was a slip away to fall flat on her back, probably hit her head again. Carl sighed, and walked over to lift the chairs away and help her stand. 

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah... just, it startled me," she assured him, she was panting. 

"Fine. Sit here I'll search inside,"

"We won't be staying here?"

"I don't think so. The place looks too open to keep it watched. And I don't want to form back that barricade in the night only to not be able to come out in the morning."

"Okay, good point," the young woman conceded looking around... taking a chair and sitting on it. "It looks like it will be really cold on the night too,"

"I'll hurry back," Carl turned to leave but made a double take, squinting his eyes in suspicion. Lifting an accusing finger at her he ordered "...don't move,"

 

Eleanor huffed and crossed her arms... but said nothing. Carl went inside the room. His first thought was that this place hadn't been a storage room all the time. It was far larger on the inside and it had a small sidebar. There was a large wooden table beside a metal kitchen... it was incorporated with what Carl assumed was a large deep frier, but it was not like he was absolutely sure. The minutes passed and the teenager forgot Eleanor was outside waiting... he searched the room with obsessive precision; but none of that helped when the only things you've found were two cans of stale tomato sauce, a bag of chips, a bottle of oil and a jar of pickles. He sighed... he hated pickles, a side thought joked about the possibility of Eleanor loving them. He came out resigned. 

 

"I told you not to move," 

Eleanor turned from the window with a blank expression. She had her gun pointing at it, but at the look of Carl, she put it back on the holster. 

"I think I saw a shadow outside..." she commented in all seriousness, but relaxed once again "you got something to eat?" 

"Not exactly," he said putting the jar and the bag of chips on the chair. He could have smirked at the interest that the young woman was trying to hide.... but then again, his mood was far from being that joyful. "Chips and pickles,"

"Pickles are salty, they'll make us want more water," she said with a little grimace, "Then again, we could make them last..."

"You'll make them last, I don't want them," he said, grabbing a cloth bag from a corner and putting the provisions there. "We need to keep moving, have you rested?" he asked, looping the bag on his shoulder and walking back to the entrance. 

"Yeah... sure," she limped after him. 

 

 

The road they had taken was the one that Michonne always took every morning to search for the governor. When Carl didn’t oversleep he would look through Eleanor’s scope and would watch as the brown mare disappeared in between the green trees. He assumed there were still close to Atlanta, the weather was warm for a longer time… kept the trees green for a longer time. Also, they had felt cold before but it had never been harsh; it had never snowed… it had been bearable. He asked himself if it was some sort of twisted tradition to spend winter and his birthday in a different place each year that passed. Maybe it was a curse that started with the outbreak; as if he would never again experience Christmas with a tasty feast, a warm chimney, and a familiar bed. The prison had come as close as it could get to something like that. They couldn’t spend on a feast but it was around that time that Daryl found a couple of pigs… as Hershel put it, they were from a farm, but had been in the open so long they had a wild behavior. They had killed the male and left the female live… Violet; because she was pregnant. They did have a feast with the people of the prison, and Eleanor had sewed two quilts together and had wrapped it around him, her, and Judith… while Maggie and Beth sand Christmas carols.

A lump lodged on his chest and it tugged painfully. He swallowed some saliva to try to stomp it down… and make it go away.

“Hey," Carl heard behind him. He looked to his left and finally noticed that he had passed by the first house of an isolated neighborhood. He looked back to Eleanor, who was in front of it… a frown on her face. “Are you okay? I’ve been calling out to you for the last minute,”

“Yeah just, I was distracted,” Carl admitted reluctantly while returning on his steps.

“Well, that is a dangerous thing to do in the open. Don’t you think?” she admonished him with a nonchalant tone. Carl glared, the commentary irking him to anger. However, he stomped that down too.  “Anyway, we should go clear it, looks isolated enough,”

“You-Eleanor you can barely walk. You could trip or get trapped inside,” he said with a more annoyed tone than she used with him.

“Well, you can’t go on your own either. This is a reduced place with many doors. Who’s gonna watch your back?” she raised her voice too, then walked to the front door as decisively as her leg could allow her to, “I’m going.”

 

 

They were already at the door. Eleanor struggled to pretend she could climb up the stairs of the porch without effort, but Carl wasn’t his father… he refused to be fooled by nonsense. Carl glared and walked passed her, giving the young woman a last reproving look and pointing his gun to the door. Eleanor sighed and put herself on the side. The moment it opened, Carl entered… his intention clear and his pace sure.

“Carl, wait!” she whispered behind him, but he paid her no mind. The main hall was clear, the kitchen too. He grimaced with the foul smell and closed the fridge with a small kick. The house was larger than it looked and the disposition made him remember his own house in King County… if by all chances he could still remember that. He moved back swiftly to the main corridor and was going to the second floor when he turned to his right. Eleanor was limping over a closed door; it looked like a second living room… or maybe the dining room. The sun was already setting and along with the closed curtains, the place looked too dark to inspect at all.

“It's too dark, close the door and I’ll check that tomorrow,” but he was ignored, “Eleanor!” he whispered.

“I can take it,” she answered back. Carl clenched his jaw again.

“I’ll handle it… come back here,”

“I said I’ll take it!” she spat back curtly. And that was it.

Carl strode forward and brushed past Eleanor, butting in in front of her. She glared but stopped walking. Before she could retort again, Carl made a fist with his left hand and punched the side wall with all of his force. Eleanor jumped by the sudden loud rattle and moved to stop him, but before she could… Carl raised the stakes, shouting while repeatedly punching the wall.

“Come on out you fuckers!”  She wide-eyed in horror. “You cowards! Little shits!” she whispered a stop. “Assholes! Mother fuckers!”

“That’s enough!” a scream joined his own. Carl stopped, unwilling to even feel guilty at her authoritative tone. “What the hell is wrong with you!”

“What the hell is wrong with YOU!” he spat back, and turned to kick the wall… again, repeatedly. “If there were… any walkers… they would be out and all over me!” he stopped and turned with a murderous glare to her again “Don’t you think?”

 

Eleanor didn't have that expressionless stare on her face any longer... and Carl could go as far as to admit it pleased him. She went rigid, her shoulders square and trembling, her mouth a thin line and her left eyebrow twitching involuntarily. She lifted her hand and was about to point at him with her finger... but thought better of it. Then, she moved to make a fist... but desisted once again. She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. 

"It's been a difficult day..." Carl scoffed "-and we are tired, so let's get this over with," she turned to leave.

"You are not going to the second floor,"

"I doubt I can reach the second floor," she sounded more tired. Carl hesitated, starting to regret his sudden outburst. He was walking forward to disappear into the second floor and sulk until nighttime when Eleanor stopped and turned to look at him. "Please be careful up th-"

"Ha! 'Be careful' ...That's rich, coming from you,"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean!" apparently the whole deep breathing deal had not been enough. Not caring, Carl moved to climb the stairs in loud stomps "No! Hell no!... This has dragged on for far too long. You'll clear that bloody place and come back here before twilight!"

"You are nobody to order me around!"

"You are the one who is NO ONE to give me orders!" the screams reached an alarming pitch now. Carl was already at the turn of the stairs when he stopped to look down. 

"Then break your other leg for all I care! ... That's fucking fine with me?!" He disappeared into the second floor, his angered response echoed through the walls.

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you back?!" 

 

Eleanor snarled, out of herself, and stomped to the living room... slamming the door as loud as she could to make sure that the brat upstairs would hear it. The echo of the wood turned over and around her for some minutes... but the silence that followed was more deafening. 

Instinctively, Eleanor moved to rub her temple and flinched when her fingers touched the stained bandage.  She had a little fever and her head hurt... maybe because of the injury, maybe because of Carl, probably because of everything.  She looked around her, her exhaustion made her spot on the dusty sofa in record time. It was upturned and tossed across the room... it looked heavy. She leaned against the door and sighed, her leg was hurting... all that stomping did her no good either. She rubbed her eyes; not understanding what the hell happened, how Carl managed to irk her to rage... or how she did the same to him. Ah, but she was supposed to be the rational, mature one. She should know better, the child had just lost his father and sister and his home in one fucking day. What was she thinking? 

She rubbed her hand against her face again, this time over her right eye and cheek. She was tired... the little breaks she took to come here did her no good; she needed a real rest. She sighed in resignation and moved to keep the place secure. The orange and yellow rays of sunset gave her enough light still to lock and barricade the windows and move furniture against the doors. That way,  the only accessible escape now was the back lawn door and the one that leads to the kitchen. Limping to the last one, she noted it was a dead end and after locking it she let it be. She found two cans of soup that hadn't gone stale... one fluffy blanket but no water, or medicines. She let them rustle and fall beside her while she stared at the turned over sofa with near desperation. Not ready to call for Carl down and ask for help, Eleanor moved to try to turn it over from the center. She pulled it to her... thinking that the other way around might be easier but louder, provided that no one would be there to catch the large piece of wood when it turned and the fall would shake the place around. 

"What are you doing?"

 

She jumped, startled, and almost dropped the sofa on her feet. Slowly, she let go of the heavy rectangle with a little thud regardless... that was its weight, and Eleanor only moved to answer when she finished. 

"I'm barricading,"

"Stop that, you'll hurt yourself"

Eleanor had to bite her tongue hard to not start up an argument again. She turned to look at him, her annoyed expression falling flat to leave only shame. Carl had again that serious yet calm face. She reminded herself one more time that she was being childish. Not being able to say anything, she watched as the teenager walked past her and to the door she intended to block with the sofa in the first place. She said nothing either when he pulled out a TV cable and started tying it around the handles of the door.

 

"I don't think that will hold,"

"It will hold. This is a strong knot... clove hitch, Shane taught it to me," he stopped his labor to turn his head and look sideways at her "You know, the guy that was my father's best friend,"

"I know who that b-" but she cut herself. It made her see red, she didn't know why. Maybe the fact that Carl reminded her of the whole Shane episode. She already knew that he had been a decent guy, turned bad under circumstances, a couple of which she had played a major role in. "Don't talk to me like I don't know,"

"Well, that's funny. Because you have never mentioned him or what happened at the farm ever since," with a forceful tug the doors rattled but didn't open. 

"What was there to say?... for me, anyway?"

"There was a lot to say like; What happened with Randall.... or why did you defend him, or what happened to you back at the woods... or why you said nothing when my father killed his best friend!" He turned sharply to glare at her, "because you knew what was going on! You always know everything... and you always keep it to yourself!"

"And what good would it make to say those things out loud!"

"I. Asked. You!" And just like that, they were at it again. Eleanor took some steps back, only for Carl to take them forward and keep the same distance. "I wanted to know, I needed to know!?"

"And why did you need to know!" 

"Why did you hide it from me?!" Carl shouted back with anger and sadness "We had a deal!? And you broke it!... you always brake it..."

 

His voice broke and Eleanor's own anger dissolved to become a painful torn on her chest at the sight of his watery eyes. She felt lost, he was right and she was at fault. 

"Carl..." her voice came as a meek and trembling sound, more pitiful than his own.

"And you think I don't mind, that you hide from everyone... from me, that I'm no different from them,"

"It is not like that-" 

"It's not?.... you sure?" He sniffed, and Eleanor fought with she had to not do the same thing. "You hid away from me, lied to me... asked my dad to lie to me, and then you almost died and because of what!?" His voice gradually raised until he was shouting once again, but it was so much different. "Look at us! We are all that's left!? And It would be only me if I didn't help you out of the prison!"

"All I did was to protect you from it!" 

"But I don't need you to protect me!?" 

 

 

There was a short silence after that. Carl wiped his face with the back if his hand. "I don't want you protecting me,"

Eleanor said nothing... even if Carl waited for her to shout, or cry.... or anything. Instead, she avoided his gaze, her face was expressionless again. Carl huffed a small laugh that was more like a hiss of breath. It was wrong, all of it. And he couldn't help but feel helpless, angrier still, and completely, utterly defeated.

"I'll sleep upstairs," he said in a weak whisper -as if his voice had left him. Eleanor lifted her head to gaze at him... at the space around him; she moved to talk furrowing her brows-but stopped. Then, some seconds passed, before she decided to answer. 

"Okay," her whisper came out more broken and soft that Carls own voice.... if he ever thought of that possibility. She didn't wait a moment longer to turn around on the sofa, giving him her back, ignoring both food and water. The last rays of light were leaving, their surroundings taking a light blue veil over them. 

Carl turned and went upstairs. 

 

 

~*~

 

 

 

Maggie screamed in rage and fired; Carl, followed by instinct. Daryl did the same and soon Beth cries of pain were drowned by the sound of gunfire. Carl had a spare thought for her, knowing that she was in no shape to fight and should wait inside instead. 

It all happened fast, and unexpected. 

From where he was standing he saw how the bullets they fired reached some targets. The people fell at the impact, just like a walker. Carl shuddered, the feeling of combined adrenaline and guilt crept over him. He never thought he would kill another living again, he thought that what he did was a necessary evil in a moment of despair. But this happened. 

A beacon of dust announced the large tank projectile and Carl only had seconds to fall to the ground and cover himself before it hit the walls of Block C and left a cloud of dust and debris behind it. When he looked up, Daryl was no longer at his side, neither was Maggie. He looked up only for a moment to the field to search for his dad. There were walkers, livings, the tank... so many things. His frowning brows and squinting eyes froze at the sight of a blond head on the ground.

He couldn't see his father, he couldn't see him running back. 

 

 

With a jump, Carl sat on the bed he had taken to sleep. He panted and swallowed some saliva only to find he had his throat sore. Had he screamed?

He looked around and closed his eyes when the ray of light that had been hitting his cheek reached his eyes. He moved and looked again. His back and neck were sore; even if he had slept in a bed much bigger and fluffier than the one he had at the prison... he didn't feel like rested at all. His eyes were sore too, but he copiously rubbed them despite knowing that it would make the itchy feeling all the worse. His hair felt damp, greasy and overall itchy too. He had grown accustomed to showers again, even if they were with cold water. 

He sighed, berating himself for going round and round the same thing. The prison, something he no longer had; something that he should let go but was holding onto still. Rubbing his face, he looked at the half-opened door that led the way to the first floor. Not finding any reason to hold off the inevitable, he got up and walked downstairs. 

The light that could barely shine through the windows was a sign that it was later that he had previously thought. He wished to have some form of a clock, maybe it was closer to midday... trying to move from this place to another would prove useless. If they ate all they had that morning they would be in difficulties at night time or even tomorrow morning. 

 

 

"I'm going out for a run," he croaked while moving to grab the bottle of water they had. It was untouched, Carl turned to frown at the unmoving form on the sofa. At some point in the night, he had climbed down to put a blanket on top of her. He assumed she was sleeping, she wasn't moving... and he preferred to let her be. Hell, he wanted to be let be himself. He tried not to mull over too much about how they screamed at each other yesterday, or what he said. "Do me a favor and drink some water, if you feel up to it there is a bed on the second floor where you can rest,"

Still no response. Carl sighed, and took the things they gathered yesterday out of the cloth bag. He then walked to look around and search for an easy but safe way out. But a rattle scared him out of his body. The front door, the one with the looped cable, rattled from moment to moment. Carl got closer to it, his hand instinctively going for the holster of his gun. The grunting that came from the other side was now easy to define. Carl rolled his eyes and walked back, he had no desire and no motivation to confront any dead creature today. He turned to look beside him and couldn't help but stare at the side of Eleanor's face. It was a corner what he could see... but what he could see seemed enough. She was peaceful, she had no need to be woken. 

"Fine," he said under his breath and walked to the main door. With a little push, he moved the desk Eleanor had put there yesterday night. He huffed, thinking that for an injured woman she had pulled quite the weight; and if she were to be up when he came back... he would scold her for it. 

Going around the house, he reached the back door, the one that connected to the back lawn and also the living room where Eleanor now rested. They were two, a man and a woman; Carl took a moment to look at them... the clothes were torn and worn, the stench of the corpses was strong too and their movements were slow. He looked down and pulled out his gun. 

"Hey!" he called, and both walkers stopped clawing at the door to follow him. Carl backed away and the walkers followed, only once they were on the road he picked up his pace and trotted to the side. One of the walkers, the female, tripped on a tire that was on the ground and fell; Carl took the opportunity and aimed at the walker. The gunshot echoed around the neighborhood and Carl looked around, expecting more walkers to appear. The grunts beside him told him that the female one was already crawling in his direction. Reconsidering his first movement, he pulled out his blade and pierced the woman with it. Then the silence was made... and he kept on walking. 

 

He knew now, the closest house the one they were staying in was a 30-minute walk. It was a white house, two floors. Eleanor couldn't reach this far if the one they were in was no longer safe, but it had to be a possibility. Walking to it, Carl noted that the door on this one had no marks of walkers roaming, unlike the one they stayed in. It was locked too, so he tried took several steps back and then breathed in some courage. He saw his father and other cops do the same in TV shows... so he rushed forward. 

"Ugh, damn it," he grunted and turned to the side. The moment his body hit the door it bounded and fell to the ground. Did he do it wrong? Was it because he was still too skinny or short? He'll never know. Now angry with himself and the wooden door, he turned to look for something to force it open. His option came in the form of a metal soil-lamp that was in the front yard. He used it as a crowbar; some tugs after, the door was open. 

 

 

 

 ~*~

 

 

"I'm back," 

 

He said, after pushing the desk back at its place. No answer came by. Carl sighed, knowing that a long talk was waiting for him. Still, he felt like the walk had been something he needed --albeit he killed some walkers along the way-- to cool down a little. He had appreciated the silence and loneliness. He had also appreciated the chocolate pudding that he found on the house next to theirs... and the medicines, and the bottled water, and the canned food. He reached for the cloth bag that now was filled to the brim with things, it was heavy and he felt proud for it. "Eleanor,"

Then again, no answer. Maybe she was upstairs, still sleeping. Even if he found that ridiculous, it was already sunset by the time he decided he should return, maybe she was in a worse state that he thought. Not letting himself get anxious by that thought, he decided to leave the food on the living room and take the medicines he found to her so that she could tell him what she could use for her leg. But then... then, something felt out of place, he looked to the sofa from the distance and didn't found Eleanor there. At first, he just wanted to affirm his first suspicion and think that she was upstairs, but he walked forward and slowly... he noticed a form that was sprawled over the floor, like halfway to reach something. 

The world froze over. 

 

 

The bag fell beside him, forgotten. He rushed forward... and his first thought of action was turn Eleanor's body to see her face. If he didn't want to feel anxiety over her well being before, that was well forgotten now. It didn't make any sense, she was sleeping... but she had to get up and some point and then, fainted?

"Elle... Eleanor, wake up, what happened... Eleanor!" he called, shaking her a little. Her face was as peaceful as he had left her in the morning, he shivered; his head cheating him to think that she was like this from the beginning... and he didn't notice. 

"Wake up!.... Please, this... this isn't fair," he whispered, his breathing accelerating. It couldn't happen again, It wouldn't happen again. Reaching forward, he tried to lift the woman's torso, looping his arms under her own he dragged her back to the sofa. With some grunts and a snarl of effort, Carl managed to sit her against it. her body lumped to the side and that's when his eyes locked on the damp bandage on her head, a red spot clearly visible on the top. 

"It's going to be okay... it's okay," he whispered between breaths as he rushed to the other side and lifted her legs up. Now that she lay down he looked at her, still panting. His eyes roamed her, nothing seemed to be amiss, but then he thought... the injury. His hands shot forward and reached the forehead. immediately after he stopped and pulled his hands back. Frowning, he reached once more, this time around he let one palm lay over her cheek and half of her forehead while the other touched his own. She was warm, far warmer than he was... fever. It made even less sense, she shouldn't be running a fever. Before the governor attacked, Bob said that he had also given Eleanor the medicine to the disease just in case she had caught it. Was he lying?... No, he couldn't be. Carl reached for his pocket and pulled out the pills that Eleanor had given him. Surprisingly enough, they were still standing. Unwrapping the bag, he pulled out the little note. 

But it would be no use, she was unconscious... there would be no way for her to drink water or take those pills if she was like that. 

"Eleanor, you have to wake up. Look... look you need to take some pills for the fever; you... you have a fever a-and," he cut himself, his face contorting and showing genuine anger and desperation. "Eleanor you have to help me on this! What the hell were you doing to faint and have a fever... I-. If this is some- some kind of payback I want y-you to know I-... I hate you," his voice broke and he wide-eyed. Her face remained the same... and his desperation and anger turned to panic. 

He had to do something, he had to. The teenager grabbed his hair, pulling it down, thinking this was unfair... too unfair. His breathing hadn't slowed down and now he felt like he was not breathing at all. This could be easily the end and Eleanor could be sick... could be dying and he could do nothing. 

 

 

 

"..."

His eyes darted up... he stopped breathing altogether. There was only silence around him, but he thought he heard something. Then, he saw it. Under her eyelids, her eyes moved. He darted closer and even noticed that her eyelashes were twitching. Like a steam train, he let go of the air with a relieved sigh. His head went down to collide with the sofa. His forehead hit her arm instead, and the movement made the sheriff hat fall beside him. 

"You win,... you scared the hell out of me," he said, his lip twitching; no matter how much he wanted to be angry, he couldn't. "Now stop playing... before I really.... get...-" he began but his words left him when he noticed something else. Up close, he could see little beads of sweat forming on her face. He reached to touch the skin one more time... all signs of relief going. He mouth twisted to show pain, and she started panting. Just like that, her temperature had gone up, it was going up rather fast; he could have thought he was imagining it, but there was no way he could imagine this. He remembered when he was shot, back at the farm. After many attempts to try to get some information out of an adult about what happened to him, his mother relented. She explained to him that he was shot, that they took him to Hershel, that he started to develop the fever of the century. She told him, how on the night... when Eleanor and Shane had already gone for the medicines he needed, he had woken up... only to fall back unconscious again. She was anxious about that episode; she didn't explain much about that part but said that the fever made him delirious. Indeed, he didn't remember a thing about waking up at night, the last thing he recalled was the woods and the deer. Was that what was happening to Elle? Was she delirious because of the fever?

He stood up, trying to calm himself down. Maybe it was her injuries, maybe because she had exerted herself too much. He looked around him, frantic, and reached for the bottle of water. He put it against his cheek... the night had been a tad cold and the water was cold still. he put the water under Eleanor's neck and then rushed to where he left the bag of supplies, he had another couple of bottles there. He used one more and put it on her left cheek. For good measure, he climbed upstairs and ripped some bedsheets to make rags. he tried to find tap water inside but it was no use. He came down and dumped the cloth with some bottled water, desperate times justified desperate... stupid decisions, and put it on Eleanor's forehead.

The minutes passed and the sky started darkening. He sat beside the bed, graving a damp cloth and putting it out in the cold air while he used the other, trying to not waste more water than he already had. The bottles were still cold enough. To his relief and hope, Eleanor stopped sweating... but she hadn't gained consciousness yet. Soon enough, night time approached, and the little hope he had left him... leaving him anxious and desperate one more time. 

 

 

He sat beside her, his head hung down and between his legs. He was tired and hungry, but he dared not to move. At first, the minutes were torture... he was unwilling to take his eye off her. Little by little, the efforts he did to keep her temperature in check wore him down, and now he lifted his gaze for a couple of minutes or so, he checked her pulse... or put his hand over her mouth, to check she was still breathing. It had been too long, and without somebody else to assure him that he wasn't imagining that puff of air escaping her lips or that little jump her veins made at her wrist, he felt he was going insane. 

"I killed... three walkers today, on the run," he said in a quiet whisper, looking back at the unused and messy space of the living room. "...alone, as I did before, when we just arrived at the prison and Hershel got bit. You were so worried for him, you said you needed to find the infirmary and the medicines and so I did... because you asked, you know?... that's why I was so angry when you scolded me for it,"  he turned to look beside him, not like Eleanor would answer to what he said. "I don't... I don't regret what I said yesterday. It may have come out wrong, but that's what I felt, I don't... I don't want you risking yourself so much for me anymore. You told me once, that when I was older I would help you... fight beside you. A-and that's all I ever wanted... you know?" he gave out defeated half smirk "You... 'promised', and that's what bothers me the most. That I see it in your eyes, you are being sincere..... and yet, you still break your promises; that's why I'm always saying you are not fair... because there's always something,"

He turned to look at her finally... and inadvertently his hand reached to play with the long braid that fell beside her. His gaze unfocused on her chest, unperceptively going up and down; still breathing. 

"But I don't want to wait anymore; because everytime something happens you jump into action and I'm not there to stop you," he says, the painful lump that has lodged in his chest since the day before growing heavier and heavier inside him. "Because we have been friends for over two years now and I know... so little about you. Because every minute that passes I fear I'll lose you too, a-and I don't want to... I-" he started, but cut himself short. In between the unshed tears, he tried to focus his gaze on her again. His eyes slowly widened. 

Carl jumped forward, his trembling hand reached to cover Eleanor's mouth... but he couldn't feel anything, he couldn't discern anything. It then moved to her neck, searching or a larger vein. At the press of his fingers he became more alarmed, she was freezing cold. He hadn't been aware of how late it was, of how cold it was now. He jumped up and searched for the forgotten blanket when he kicked something with his shoe. Carl heard a metallic sound beside him and looked down. 

He was going insane, surely. 

 

His hand let go of the blanket and reached instead for the thing he kicked. The gun, his gun, still with a couple of bullets left, rested in his hands. He turned his gaze to the moveless form of Eleanor. She wasn't breathing, she was cold. Could life be that unfair?

He lifted the gun from where he was, his mind transporting him outside of his body, his emotions being dulled by the task he appointed himself. It was all like that time when his mother died. Then, his mother had the same peaceful expression, she was not breathing, she was also cold. The thought that crossed his mind then was barely stronger than the one he had now. His mother couldn't turn a walker, Eleanor couldn't either. He had done this before... he could do it again. 

A sound broke the silence, a sob... filled with sadness, followed by another, and another. Carl's hand trembled, making his aim poor... his eyes watered, the tears fell, he was no longer sure if he could properly point at the head if he didn't get closer. He fell to his knees, asking himself who he was trying to fool. 

He hadn't done this, he had never done this.

Eleanor had been the one keeping the gun steady, she had been there for him. She had been strong for him. 

And now it was his turn. 

 

"I can't.... not you," he sobbed, letting the gun fall beside him. His trembling hands reaching to bling onto the shirt of achest he had hugged, that he had cried against... that he had searched for security and comfort. "Not you,"

 

"Please, don't leave me alone" he pleaded, on and on, and when he felt a twitch beside him he jumped.... scared, but didn't dare to move. It was too late now, and there was no mistaking the reverberance of the gruntings under him. He let out his breath in a long exhalation... as if his last bit of will left him to accept the end. Something moves beside him, but he didn't look. It would be fine, it was still Eleanor, it had to be. He idly thought about Andrea, and Hershel, and Carol... and finally, finally understood; what they felt when they looked at their loved ones... what they wished to believe. 

He had closed his eyes when a hand fell over his head. He couldn't help but jump, his mind filling in the things that would happen next. He was scared, he had to admit, but at the same time he was accepting what was to happen because it felt different... or him. He had chosen this... he clung onto the shirt tighter. 

But the pain never came. Instead, there was a soft caress. So soft and cold against his scalp, he tensed. Walkers didn't caress, this was a product of his imagination, willing to soothe him out of his fear. With that last thought, he half wanted to surrender to it, and disconnect... but then came a whimper. Walkers didn't whimper either.

When a cough came through and Elle's chest raised up. He jumped and sat straight. 

Chocolate brown eyes locked with light blue ones. They were barely open, they were glassy and exhausted... and beautiful. Carl let out short breaths, he hurried his hands to wipe the tears that meddled with his vision... then reluctantly reached forward. 

"Carl, don't cry," she said, her brows furrowed in distress... her hand reaching form his head to his cheek. And the spell broke. He rushed forward, his arms clumsily looping around her neck, his face burying on the space that provided her neck and her shoulder... and he sobbed. 

 

 

"I thought you died! You h-had a fever... and... a-and you fell, you were unconscious! "

"-I... I'm here," she croaked, "I'll be fine,"

"No! It's not fine!... Fuck you! You can't leave me like this! I need you! I need you with me!"

"I won't... I won't leave,"

"Bullshit! It's all bullshit! I- I thought... I thought you died!..." he said between pants and sobs. Eleanor coughed again and tried to swallow but couldn't. Watching this, Carl jumped back, again harshly brushing his tears away and taking several breaths. he looked around him to pull a bottle of water and to open it. He kneeled beside her and Eleanor moved sideways to take it. Carl noted with some relief how she took sip after sip. He rested his gaze on her moving and bobbling throat until she took no more. 

 

"Wait... wait, you need to take more," he said searching around him. Cursing under his breath, "I... when you woke up I planned to give you this," he said reaching the little bg with the medicines. Eleanor squinted her eyes at it but soon recognized it. Surprised, she turned at Carl. 

"You didn't take them,"

"I wasn't sick,"

"Oh...," she limited her self to say, then moved to sit up. Carl helped her to do so... instead of keeping her down and once she was sat, she moved to take the pills.

"There's more food, and water, and medicines... but you'll have to sort them out first," 

Eleanor looked to the corridor, where the bag with provisions was still forgotten. Her tired gaze turned to Carl and she startled the teenager with her hand that again reached to cup his cheek. Carl didn't bat it away, he stayed still. After a move, he closed his eyes, his face moving to show only relief. 

 

 

 

"It seems you can really be on your own," she idly mentioned, probably more to herself. 

"No, no you've got it all wrong," Carl moved to say, taking her hand on his. "What I said yesterday... I-I didn't meant to-"

"But you were right,"

"I-I wasn't!"

"I should apologize for everything-"

"Listen to me!" Carl raised his voice, but unlike before he shook his head. "Look, what happened in the prison. The sickness and the governor; I was angry because things didn't turn out differently and... because you took responsibility for everything and nobody helped you and you feel sick. I wasn't ready to accept that it was your choice and... w-what I meant when I said that I didn't want you protecting me or anyone else is because I don't... I don't want to see you hurt or in danger for me or everyone else."

Eleanor said nothing for a while... and Carl shifted on his feet, suddenly self-conscious. But then, Eleanor looked down and smiled. And Carl felt a little lighter thanks to that smile. 

"Well, I still broke my promises and lied to you. I wanted to protect you... I've always done everything for your survival and that has never been because of a promise to you or your mother, or your father... it just has... been, since I've met you," she began, and Carl moved to speak again... but one look of the woman stopped him. "I've put myself in mortal danger many times, I've closed myself to you and others many times and I haven't realized it until you said it to me... until you told me you didn't really know me and It hurt me... because it was the truth, and It was my fault. Oh... but I love you. You are different to me, Carl you are important to me," she said, looked up, her eyes filled with unshed tears. Carl wide-eyed and let himself be pulled into a hug. "You are my best friend, and I wish to be your friend... and I haven't been fair to you and I'm sorry," They both sniffed and for the first time that night Carl felt utterly embarrassed to be crying like a baby in front of her. "I no longer know if I could ever meet my promises, or brake them again for your sake. That's why I decided to hear you out, what you want... what you wish. I want to be your friend... properly, your friend, and I want you to trust me again,"

 

 

 

"You are being really mature right now,"

They both huffed a laugh, and parted, both eyes red, and swollen and pathetic. "Usually I'm the one doing the jokes to lighten up the mood,"

"I've cried and stressed my ass out for you all night, might as well do it myself,"

"I swear to god. One of these days, I'll bleach your mouth clean-"

"Shut up, It's your fault I'm like this," he ended, moving to sit on the sofa properly. Looking up, Eleanor slowly got up to do the same. But before she could, she reached the closes form of food she had to put it in between them. "We are hungry now? That's good progress,"

"We haven't eaten a thing in two days..." she said opening the bag and putting it in between them again. Soon both were getting chips out of it on a regular basis.  "You are tired, care to go to sleep now?"

"Now?"

"Yup..."

"No, not yet,"  he said, and inadvertently, his lips moved to form a little smile. Eleanor noticed, and smiled herself. "Tell me a story,"

"A story?" he nodded, "What about?"

"... about you,"

 

Eleanor couldn't help to widen her eyes in surprise, she couldn't help the broad smile that formed on her face or the warm feeling that steadily grew on her chest. She felt like crying again, but instead, tugged the blanket and wrapped it around them like she always used to do. 

"Okay then..." she began and Carl snuggled closed to her, resting his head on her shoulder.

 

 

"This story begins with me... my mom and dad... we lived in a little place called Apalachicola, Florida...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Everyone!!
> 
> Merry Christmas! 
> 
> Happy New year!
> 
> The first chapter of the year. Along one at that, but that's the point. Hope you like it. 
> 
> See you soon on the next chapter to find out what happened to Rick and Michonne.


End file.
